


Observance

by provencepuss



Category: Starsky & Hutch
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-04
Updated: 2012-11-04
Packaged: 2017-11-17 23:19:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 26,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/554306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/provencepuss/pseuds/provencepuss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Observing.<br/>Observed<br/>Observant.....</p>
            </blockquote>





	Observance

** OBSERVANCE **

  
“Count me out.”  
Dobey wiped his face with his handkerchief and Hutch turned to stare at Starsky who was in his habitual upright perch between the coat-stand and the door.  
“What’s that supposed to mean, Starsky?” Hutch noted the annoyed tone in their Captain’s voice. He held his breath. He looked over at Starsky and saw the determination in his eyes.   
 _He’s really serious about this. I hope she’s worth it._  
Hutch was thinking back to the one time when he had taken forty eight hours to be with a woman - and ended up strung out and doing cold turkey under Starsky’s loving supervision in the apartment above The Pits. He came back from his reverie as he sensed movement.  
Starsky stepped towards Dobey’s desk and pulled a paper from under a file; smiling he handed it to his boss.  
“Seventy two hours leave, starting Thursday. You signed it Cap’n.”  
 _I dare him to refuse me!_  
Dobey glanced at the paper and sighed. He had indeed signed Starsky’s strange leave request; but that was before they had been tipped off for one of the biggest arms deals they’d ever heard about.  
“I’m going to need every man I have on that stakeout, Starsky.”  
Starsky shook his head silently. “Maybe, but I won’t be one of them.”  
Again, Hutch noted the grim determination.  _Whatever it is, it sure means a lot to him. Dobey’s fit to be tied here and Starsk could find himself with a suspension instead of leave._  
“I’m telling you Starsky – leave is cancelled.”  
Starsky was staring at Dobey as if he had him in the interrogation room.  
“It’s important, Cap’n. And it’s personal, I guess.”  
Something in Starsky’s eyes told Dobey that there would be no point in arguing or even in ordering his man to change the leave dates. He nodded his resignation to the situation. “But I want you back here on duty on Sunday, ya hear?”  
“Loud and clear; Cap’n. I don’t have anything special to do on Sunday. Do you have something special Hutch?”   
 _He’s skating on mighty thin ice – Dobey’s going to think Starsky’s taking the rise out of him for going to church before he comes to the office on Sundays._  
Still smiling, Starsky left the room. Dobey continued to brief Hutch.

  
Hutch found Starsky by the candy machine.   
“So what’s so special that you won’t change a couple of days leave?”  
“I wonder if you would understand.”  
“Try me.”  
Starsky decided against the candy machine and punched Hutch playfully on the arm. “Come on, I’ll buy you lunch and explain.”

  
They were sitting in a booth in a Chinese restaurant. Over mu show pork (for Hutch) and sour-sweet chicken (for Starsky) plus noodles and stir fried vegetables; Starsky spoke first.  
“Which is the most important to you, Hutch, Christmas or Easter?”  
“Huh?” a noodle escaped from Hutch’s chop-sticks and found a home on the front of his plaid shirt.  
“If you had to say ‘I don’t work that day’ which would it be?”  
“Well, I guess, hey hang on a minute – we never work Christmas Day.”  
“Exactly.”  
Hutch retrieved the noodle and stabbed at a slice of water chestnut; it slipped out from between his chopsticks and he gave up and started eating with his fingers. Starsky expertly took a piece of chicken and chewed quietly.  
“Please Starsk…throw a little light here.”  
“We don’t work Christmas – and we rarely work Easter. Well now I’m taking what is important to me.”  
It was late September and Hutch still couldn’t work it out. Starsky’s birthday was long gone and as far he knew so were Lily’s Nick’s and Eva’s. Terri’s birthday had been in April and she had died in June. What was so special in September?  
“Just explain, OK?”  
“Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur; I’ve been working through Rosh Hashanah but Kippur is too important.”  
Hutch realized how little he knew about anything other than his own Lutheran background when it came to religion. All he knew about Yom Kippur was the Arab-Israeli war. He knew that it had taken the Israelis by surprise because of some holiday but that was all.  
“OK, I’m listening. Why do I feel like I should have paid more attention at Sunday school?”  
“They probably wouldn’t have taught you this anyway, so if you listened or not doesn’t matter.” (He paused to take more chicken) “Think about it. Everything stops for your calendar; I mean we even count the dates by your calendar, but for the rest of us – either we take leave or we work. Up until now I’ve worked; but now…well I guess those things have gotten important to me again; so I have to take leave.”   
Hutch was watching him with an interested if puzzled expression. Starsky took another piece of chicken, then a bunch of noodles. Hutch battled with a piece of pork – and won! Starsky continued. “So, Kippur is the most important day in the Jewish calendar. It’s the real start of the New Year. Rosh Hashanah is the easy bit and then we get serious. You know what it is in English?” Hutch shook his head. “ ‘The Day of Atonement’; it’s a day for reflecting on your place in the world and the life you lead and all that; and that means making a sacrifice…an effort… You know Hutch, when I was kid my grandmothers and my mom would have had a fit if dad had worked on Kippur. I guess Uncle Al and Aunt Rosa aren’t as observant and I drifted away. And I was still only a kid; I mean I only did it once before dad was killed. And in the Army…well….”  
Hutch noticed the distant look in Starsky’s eyes and he knew that there was something more to all this than a sudden religious revival. Ever since Terri died Starsky had been seeing Rabbi Stern regularly; Hutch remembered the beauty of the candles that Starsky had lit for Hanukkah (and the little lesson about some of the origins of Christmas traditions that his friend had given him).  
Something else came back to him. Round about Easter time Starsky had been nibbling some kind of crackers and muttering about doing a good spring clean in his apartment – he had even offered to blitz Hutch’s place; Hutch had pleaded not wanting to hurt Fifi’s feelings and saved his beloved chaos from the Starsky whirlwind.   
“So you are going to observe Kippur…what exactly does that mean?”  
“I told you – a little sacrifice. Don’t worry; I’m not going to kill anything!” He chuckled. “You looked really worried just then, buddy! I’m going to observe it properly is all. Spend the day with the Sterns in the synagogue…and pray and think about my life and where I am and…,” (his voice trailed off and Hutch saw that distant look again) “…and… and…not eat or drink for twenty four hours.”  
Hutch nearly choked on a slice of bamboo shoot. The thought of Starsky not eating or drinking for twenty four hours – especially after the way his friend teased him about his own fasts – was a hard one to imagine. The light began to dawn.   
“So twenty four hours for the fasting and a day to recover, right? But that still leaves another twenty four.”   
“Yeah. Kippur starts at dusk on Thursday; so I’ll need to get ready – and then, like you say, I’ll need to recover. Going without eating is OK, but you know me if I get dehydrated…”  
Hutch certainly did. Starsky would get a migraine that would floor him – and that explained the extra day of leave after the holiday. Hutch made a mental note to go and check his partner out first thing on Saturday morning.  
They finished their meal and Starsky grinned at Hutch. “What’s that saying? ‘The condemned man ate hearty’?”  
They went out to the car. Starsky slid behind the wheel and reached over to unlock Hutch’s door. As he started the engine he turned to his partner. “Wanna check out your position for the stakeout?”  
“Yes; even if you aren’t there I’d rather you know where I am. Did that make sense?”  
“I think I see what you mean. Anyway, I always choose the best position in these circumstances…” (Hutch’s mind went back to the Great Dane that had taken him for a bush on one stake-out and said nothing.) “…so I’ll find your hiding place.”   
And he did!

****************************************************************

Hutch set off for the stakeout with mixed feelings. He hated doing this kind of thing without Starsky – he felt naked, unprotected and defenseless. In a situation like this he would be able to count on Starsky to predict and anticipate his moves. He would do the same – and he couldn’t anticipate someone he didn’t really know; so he opted for working without a partner…on his own…vulnerable.  
He pulled up in front of the building that he was supposed to be watching and unfolded himself from the driver’s seat. He glanced around and seeing no sign of life he walked as casually as possible to his stake-out position.   
“Typical of Starsky,” he thought as he climbed up into the tree from which he would have a view of the whole block.  
Starsky had wandered around the area for a couple of minutes before he spotted the perfect place for Hutch to hide. Up in a half dead tree some kid had once built a tree-house. The structure was almost intact and from below he could see that the floor was solid. He pointed up into the tree and winked at Hutch. “Thanks buddy.” “Hey come on, it’s not that high – even I could go up there!” Hutch surrendered.

  
So here he was half-way up a tree waiting for something to happen. He remembered a snatch of something from his childhood. “Halfway up the stairs is a stair where I sit….” He’d sat on that stair enough times listening to his parents fighting.  _I wonder if Starsky ever wished he was Christopher Robin? No come to think of it he probably saw himself as Batman and Robin rolled into one!_  
He checked the controls on the walkie-talkie and focused his binoculars on the middle of the street so that any adjustment would not be too difficult when he needed to see what was going on. That was a trick Starsky had taught him too. “I learned it in the Army. Have your binoculars focused on a half-way point then if you have to focus nearer or further you don’t lose time.”  
Hutch settled down for a long uncomfortable afternoon.  
He couldn’t help thinking about Starsky’s day. Somehow the vision of Dave sitting quietly all day and not eating or drinking was so incongruous that it became more and more vivid in his mind. It’s one hell of a way to prepare a new year. His mind turned to his own upbringing – he didn’t really remember having to make any sacrifices; some of the catholic kids at school had to stop eating meat or give up candy during Lent; but Hutch had never heard of anything like this. In fact the more he thought about it the harder to imagine it became. When he was a kid if he did something wrong he either got spanked or told that he was forbidden cookies, or candy or cake for a certain time (sometimes both happened). It was also true that when he and Abby fasted from time to time he sort of regarded it as a penance for other excesses – they tended to fast after a party. He respected Starsky’s determination – even if he would have preferred him to be up this bloody tree with him now.

  
Things began to move around four pm. A truck arrived at a loading bay and two men slipped out of the cab and lifted the roll-down door enough to enter. They took care to stay half-covered by the truck and no matter how hard he tried, Hutch could not get a good look at either of them. Now and then one of them would come out and climb into the truck…empty handed. Hutch reckoned that these were the buyers and they were waiting for the cargo.  
He watched the comings and goings for about an hour. Suddenly the roll down door slammed shut and the truck started up. The truck pulled away – Hutch couldn’t be sure, but he thought that only one of the men was in it. He decided to wait a little longer. He had cramp. Nothing significant had happened as far as he could see; one thing was certain; no arms changed hands that day. He sighed and switched on the radio.  
“Tree-house to Play-pen.”  
“Yea Tree-house?”  
“Looks like nothing’s going down today. Get anything from your side?”  
“Nothing, Hutch. Feeling lonely up there? Is it Jane or Cheetah tonight?”  
“Very funny!”  
He climbed carefully from his perch and once he was on the ground he stretched his sore limbs. The tree-house was not designed to accommodate a six foot one inch adult and every part of his body felt like it had been folded and creased to make an origami Hutch. He started back to the car. Something caught his eye; reflected in the side mirror as he opened the car door. He studied the mirror carefully, not wanting to turn around and show that he had noticed. He slid into the car and left the door open while he continued to stare at the mirror. He wasn’t imagining it – he could see the glint of the sun on a lens…binoculars or a camera, he couldn’t be sure. One thing he did know was that the watcher was being watched. He swore and closed the door. No wonder nothing had happened! He started the engine and gave it a second to settle to a steady rhythm. Starsky had been nagging him for days to get his car serviced; the engine choked out and Hutch hit the wheel in frustration. While he gave the motor time to recover from its attack of flooding he glanced at the mirror again. Whoever was watching was still there. He turned the key again and this time his car agreed to move on. He drove back to the precinct and parked in the garage.

  
“Hey Matt?” He called over to one of the mechanics working on a patrol car.  
“Yes Hutch?”  
“Any chance of just checking my engine – I think I must have a little dirt in the carburetor or something.”  
Matt grinned and came over to Hutch’s car; he was wiping his hands on a greasy cloth.  
“You two make me laugh. Starsky has that car of his tuned to perfection and yours – well I ain’t gonna hold my breath waiting for you to arrive in the mornings!” He saw the look on Hutch’s face. “OK, I’ll check it out. How long are you going to be upstairs?”  
“As long as it takes me to type a report and let Dobey chew me out because nothing happened; although it is hardly my fault if it didn’t.”  
“Say an hour?”  
“Yea, an hour should be enough.”  
Matt winked; “of course if I find I just need to give the whole engine a little work….”  
“Thanks Matt.”  
Hutch was secretly relieved that Matt would unofficially service his car. The last bill had almost sent him running to the bank for a loan. As usual he got no sympathy from his partner. Starsky had stared at the bill then guffawed. “Shit, Hutch, you could buy a car in better condition than your heap for that!”

  
He went up to the squad room using the stairs – his legs still needed to be stretched out. Dobey was waiting for him.  
“Hi Captain, I was just going to ….”  
“In my office.”  
“…to come to see you.”  
Hutch followed Dobey into the office and settled into a chair opposite the Captain’s desk.  
“I’m listening.”  
Hutch sighed inwardly. “Well Captain, I was there all the time and nothing happened. Either our tip-off was a fake or they’ve changed their schedule.” (Dobey nodded) “I think that they know we know; if you see what I mean.”  
If Starsky had been there this would have sparked off one of those crazy conversations…If they know that we know, how do we know that they know that we know…and round and around until Dobey shut him up. Hutch chose the serious route.  
“I think I was being watched.”  
Dobey leaned forward cueing Hutch to continue.  
“As I was getting back in my car, I’m pretty sure I saw the light reflecting on glass from behind a bush.”  
Dobey scratched his head. “But how? This operation is tight as a drum. No-one outside of this department knows about it. Even the FBI is not in on this yet.”  
Hutch stood up and went over to the water cooler. He hesitated and then turned back to Dobey. “Do you think they have someone inside the department to tip them off?”  
“I think you’d better start trying to find out!”

*********************************************

Starsky spent the morning quietly. He spent a little time checking over bills and paper work and noting all the deductibles that he would claim of his taxes when the IRS form arrived. He kept each month’s expenses in a separate envelope and he checked everything off against his bank readout as soon as he got it at the end of the month. He glanced at the amount in his savings account and grinned. If he continued like this he’d be able to make an offer to his landlord. Or take another decision.  
He looked at his watch; it was time to get himself together. He started to strip off his shirt as he went into the bedroom. Something caught his eye.  _Looks like I have a Peeping Tom._ He continued to undress and as he was about to remove his underpants he smiled coyly over his shoulder and went into the bathroom, and closed the door. He showered and took time to just stand under the water jet and let his body relax.   
He soaped himself and rinsed off then washed his hair. He stepped out of the shower, shook his curls to release some of the excess water, wrapped a towel around his waist and looked in the mirror. Who was it had called him the Three O’clock Shadow? He took out his razor and shaving soap and started to work up lather.  
Five minutes later; clean-shaven and toweled dry, his hair beginning to spring back from clinging to his skull, he came back into his bedroom – totally naked. Once again he saw the glint of light on glass. He nodded an acknowledgement to his watcher and started to dress. Once he was dressed in his best dark suit (with its blue silk lining) and sober white shirt and dark tie he opened the second drawer of his bureau and removed the velvet bag containing his Kippa and Prayer Shawl. He checked his pocket for keys and a little change – and added his badge. He automatically reached for his holster as he passed the coat stand and he grinned to himself and opened the front door. He locked it carefully behind him and skipped down to the Torino. As he drove off he checked his mirrors and identified the source of the reflection. He raised an eyebrow, and drove on.  _Click, click. Smile, you’re on Candid Camera_

  
Rabbi Stern was waiting for him at the gate. Starsky parked his car in the driveway and walked over to shake his host by the hand. “I hope you are hungry, Dave; as usual my wife has catered for the entire Marine Corps!” Starsky laughed. Before he had a chance to go into the house he was surrounded by the Stern children. The kids had adopted Starsky as some kind of honorary older brother crossed with a favorite uncle. Mrs. Stern came out wiping her hands on a dishcloth. She kissed Starsky lightly on the cheek. “How’s my favorite cop?” “Hutch? Oh, last I heard he was up a tree!” “You know who I mean!” “Well I’m OK, I guess…”  
“Come in and sit down, lunch is ready.”  
They sat down to eat the last meal before the fast. The Stern family had been busy and the table was spread with a real feast. Nothing too salty and plenty of good things to give them the energy to last the full twenty-four hours. The central feature was a beautiful home-made chollah that the girls had carefully braided before their mother put it in the oven. Rabbi Stern was about to pronounce the blessing over the bread when he looked across the table at his guest. “Do you think you can remember it, David?”  
Starsky looked shy and adjusted his Kippa that was perched precariously amongst his curls. He took a deep breath, bowed his head slightly and said in a quiet, hesitant voice:

_Baruch ata adonai, elohaynu melech ha'olam, hamotzei lechem, meen ha'aretz._ _  
Blessed are you king of the universe who delivers forth bread from the earth._

During the meal they spoke of everything and nothing. Just like a regular family, Starsky thought. They had the same kind of communication lines that he had with Hutch – anticipation that meant that sentences did not necessarily have to be completed. He couldn’t help thinking about his partner up in the tree-house watching and waiting. Something must have shown on his face.  
“Penny for them David.” Mrs. Stern was clearing the table and looking at him carefully. “Oh I was just thinking of Hutch playing at being Andy Hardy in his tree house. Let me help you with that ma’am.” He stood up and started to expertly gather plates and silver-ware. He followed her into the kitchen.   
“There’s something more on your mind than Hutch up a tree, isn’t there?”  
He hesitated. “Yes ma’am; I have to decide something and…I’m not even sure that I want to make the decision.”  
“Can we help?”  
“No; the only person who can help is me…and maybe God – perhaps today is the day I’ll know what to do.” He put down the plates that he was still holding into the sink and ran a little water onto them out of habit.  
“You can help me with the dishes later if you like.”  
His reply was not what she expected. “You have a deal.”  
There was a chocolate cake on the table. Starsky grinned like a kid; “my favorite!”  
Mrs. Stern winked at him. “There’s no rule that says we can’t have a final fling before the sun sets!” Starsky lifted the cake and balanced the plate on the flat of his hand. Holding the cake at shoulder level, he entered the room. “Dadadadaaaaaaaaa!”  
When they had finished eating and cleared the table, and Starsky had done the dishes with Mrs. Stern, dusk was gathering. Mrs. Stern took the white candles from a cabinet. After lighting most of them she passed the taper to Starsky. “I kept two for you, David.” He took the box and struck a match. He lit a candle for his father…and a candle for the love of his life – Terri.

The Rabbi led his family into the synagogue and the prayers began. Starsky thought of Hutch and his paraphernalia for meditating; the candles and the joss sticks, the loose clothes and the special stool.  _I guess he’s not as crazy as I thought…maybe this is my meditation kit._  He sat and listened to the prayers and the chanting. A vision of his grandfather came to him. He had taken little Davey to the temple near where they lived. Starsky must have been around six or seven years old. The place seemed to be filled with old men with gray beards…they spoke Yiddish amongst themselves. His grandfather told him that many of these men had survived. He was too little to really understand what his grandfather meant. A few days later, he was in the Deli with his dad and one of the old men came in. Davey had nudged his father’s arm. “That old man goes to Poppa’s temple.”  
His father had leaned down and said quietly, “he’s the same age as I am Davey. But what he went through made him look like an old man before his time. Promise me something. Whatever terrible things happen to you in your life; no matter how hard things seem, I want you to remember Isaac over there. Remember that if he could survive knowing that his family had been destroyed; and that if he could survive those terrible camps; nothing, however terrible it seems to you, nothing in your life will ever be equal to the horror that he survived. And if he survived, Davey, you can deal with anything you have too; for him, for your Poppa and for me.” Mike Starsky had started to say more. “And for your….” But he had stopped. The little boy looked up into his father’s eyes and decided not to ask; not then. A few years later, at his first Kippur after his Bar Mitzvah, Davey had asked his father why they lit so many candles. “For those who did not survive; Davey…for your cousins; who were not born in America. Son I hope you never have to see the horrors I saw when I was in the army” And he had understood. In his turn he had seen the horrors of war. Now he was sitting in the synagogue. He thought of the dead that he had loved and the dead that he had never known. The memory of his own near death in an improvised gas chamber made him cough. Mrs. Stern put a hand on his arm.   
“Are you OK?”  
“Yes. I was just thinking of something and it set off a memory I’d rather forget. At least I don’t feel hungry yet.”  
“We’ll go out and get some air in a little while. Maybe that will help.”  
“I’ll be OK, ma’am.”  
She looked at him out of the corner of her eye and did not believe him for a second.  
 _That boy has something troubling him more than sitting here today can solve._

****************************************************************

Hutch came back to the garage just as Matt was sliding out from under his car.  
“I think it’ll run a little better.” Matt was fishing in the pocket of his filthy overalls while he spoke to Hutch. He found what he was looking for and held it out to Hutch.  
“I found this under the right fender.”  
It was a tracking device. Hutch tossed it in his palm and looked at it carefully. He’s seen one like that before – but where? He was pretty sure that there was something special about this bug. Starsky was good at that kind of identification. Oh well, he couldn’t count on Starsk for at least another thirty six hours. The thought of Starsky made his stomach rumble – he hadn’t eaten since breakfast and he was hungry. He decided to go see Huggy.

  
Huggy was clearing up the mess.  
“It looks like some of your customers got over-excited, Hug.” Hutch picked up a chair and righted it as he spoke. Huggy was struggling to return a pinball machine to its usual position. Hutch went to help him…and saw the damage on Huggy’s face.  
“It wasn’t over-excited customers, huh?”  
“No. It was a message for you.”  
Hutch followed him over to the bar and settled on a stool. “Did they give any details?”  
“Yea. They told me in no uncertain terms that it was dangerous for my health to be seen with you two guys.” Huggy stopped and looked around. “Hey; where’s Starsky?”  
“He’s observing Kippur.”  
“Do what?”  
“Yom Kippur. Starsky seems to have had an attack of religious revival. Right now he’s sitting in the synagogue and not eating or drinking for twenty four hours.” Hutch looked at his watch; it was one pm. “They started at dusk last night; he has another few hours to go.”  
“Huggy shook his head and reached for a bottle of Tylenol. I don’t like to think what he’ll be like when he’s finished. If Starsky doesn’t eat you can hear his stomach growl louder than that charged up short of his.”   
Hutch laughed. He watched as Huggy swallowed two pills and held a wet towel to his eyes. “And that’s not mentioning the headaches he gets if he doesn’t get enough caffeine in the day.”  
“I’ll go and see how he is tomorrow. Right now I have other things to deal with; starting with the messengers who came to call on you. Can you describe them?”  
“I can do better than that Hutch; I can tell you exactly who they are and who they work for. And you ain’t going to like it.”  
He was right. Hutch didn’t like what he heard at all!

  
They hadn’t had trouble from this quarter for a very long time. Not since they were first working as detectives. Frank Tallman had been good to his word and had conveniently died three months before the final appeal was due to be heard. He left behind a grieving young widow, a not-so-grieving first wife and a son from his first marriage. The son and his mother had every intention of continuing to run business as usual, without the help of the second Mrs. Tallman. Unfortunately for them, despite the old man’s predictions about his early death he had turned out to be a little healthier than everyone expected. The young widow was eight months pregnant! The ensuing feud between the two Mrs. Tallmans was being fought out on the streets. The second Mrs. T was the sister of a well-known underworld personality in Las Vegas. She had, as one might say, contacts! To complicate the issue her last affair before she married Tallman had been with Ray O’Malley, a man who would never miss the opportunity to increase the reach of his own drug and prostitution networks. The possibility of an all-out gangland war was real and dangerous.

Huggy’s two messengers had come from O’Malley.  
Now all Hutch needed to find out was why O’Malley thought that he and Starsky were interested in him. As far as he could remember, O’Malley had never dabbled in anything other than drugs and running his stable; arms deals were not his style.

He picked up another table. As he lifted it he revealed a pile of broken glass and caught a quick reflection of the bar lights before he replaced the table into its normal position. Could there be a link?

“Huggy; have you heard anything about someone watching me…or Starsk, I guess.”  
“Not a peep. The only thing I heard loud and clear was the bit where they told me to tell you guys to keep out of it.” Huggy picked up a dishcloth and went to wipe the counter; he put his hand to his head and changed his mind. “I guess I’ll leave this to the staff! I’ll be upstairs if anyone wants to see me; but I do not recommend it!”  
Hutch took the hint and went out to his car.  
He sat for a moment and checked out the other cars parked along the street. He saw nothing to bother him and so he started up the engine (thanking Matt under his breath) and pulled out into the traffic. He checked his mirrors again and saw a pick-up truck come slowly around the corner behind him…too slowly. He drove on, still checking the mirror every few seconds. The truck kept its distance. Hutch turned a few times – so did the truck. He accelerated; the truck kept to exactly the same speed and distance from him. He decided to let his tail follow him home.

****************************************************************

Edna Tallman was a well-preserved sixty-something. She wore her hair in a perfect cut that was re-dyed every two weeks to retain her light auburn color (and to keep the white roots at bay). She was immaculately made-up; enough to disguise the damage of age without making her look like she wore much make-up. She pulled her blue silk and lace wrapper around her and smiled at the young man standing in front of her. She was sitting in a chair in her bedroom. The room was a perfect harmony of tasteful pale blue with a thick wool carpet one half shade lighter than the color of the matching bed cover and curtains. The walls were papered in a stripe-pattern in three paler tones of the same blue. Her bed was covered in ruffled satin and the canopy above was draped in the same fabric. Holding court in the middle of the bed was Suzy, her white Standard Poodle. A young woman sat on a stool in front of Edna; she was carefully painting each fingernail a perfect shell-pink. Edna could afford to have her nails re-painted every day; even if she did little or nothing to chip the polish. Edna glanced at her hands and saw that Cathy had finished the second coat of polish on both hands. “That’s fine for now dear. Would you be sweet girl and take Suzy for her little walk?” Cathy knew that she was being dismissed; she took the blue leather leash and attached it to Suzy’s matching collar. Maid and dog left the room. Edna gestured to her son with her fanned out left hand and he sat on the bed.

  
“What news darling?”  
Her son cleared his throat. “They are on to something. I’m not too sure what. The blond…”  
“Hutchinson.” His mother intervened.  
“Yea, Hutchinson; he’s on a stakeout; spent most of his day up in a tree-house opposite some warehouses over near the docks.”  
“And the other one; is he in the tree-house too?  
“You won’t believe this,” her son grinned.  
“Try me.” There was little humor in Edna’s voice – the war for what she considered to be her rightful inheritance was no laughing matter. Like many wives of successful men – she had been a not insignificant power behind her husband’s throne.  
“He’s spending the day in the synagogue!”  
His mother stared at him. “Well isn’t that charming? A tough cop like Dave Starsky breaks off from his duty to observe a religious holiday. Maybe next year we should do the same. However, this year we have enough to deal with. Find out what they are looking at. The information might be useful to us.”  
Her son left the room and his mother turned her attention to the difficult choice of which of her many elegant pale blue outfits she would wear today. She opted for a dress designed by the same man who was making clothes for the former Governor’s wife. She prided herself that she, Edna Tallman, had already bought from him before Nancy had ‘discovered’ him. It pleased her to dress in the same style as Nancy Reagan – their ambitions were not altogether dissimilar after all – both wanted total power! Edna Tallman was perhaps more sure of achieving her goal than was her friend Nancy – after all, Edna did not have to rely on the uncertainty of elections to get what she wanted. She selected shoes and purse to match her dress and went down to the office on the first floor of the Brentwood house that she had kept after her divorce.

*********************************************************

The Beverly Hills house that Tallman had left to his second wife Trixie was a palatial display of ostentation at its worst. Edna Tallman had insisted on her interpretation of good taste – nothing to shock the eye; restraint rather than ostentation. Her husband had neither demurred nor agreed with her – he simply allowed her to run things her way. It had been a good marriage. Their son was a credit to them. He had studied at UCLA, law and accounting; the family business was in good hands.  
Tallman had always been a loving and attentive husband and Edna knew for sure that he had never cheated on her. Until the gang from Las Vegas had invited him for a ‘boys only’ trip. Edna heard the ugly rumor but refused to believe that her husband would betray her with some dancer from Cesar’s Palace. When Tallman told her that he wanted a divorce she began to believe it. When her son showed her a photograph of his father and a heavily pregnant Trixie, she accepted it. She took him for as much as she could; and ultimately his divorce had cost him his life. After a last desperate attempt to recuperate some of his lost wealth, Tallman had entered a drug deal that was busted by Starsky and Hutch. He had predicted that he would be dead before all the appeals were over – and the strain of two years of wrangling with the DA’s office and living up to the expectations of his young wife took their toll. Tallman was dead.  
Trixie had chosen the house. She had grabbed him by the elbow and steered him into a rambling stucco house with a sloping driveway. “It’s perfect” she had told him. She then spent over two million dollars on remodeling the “perfect” house so that it was no longer recognizable by its former owners. She had the hallway doubled and paved in black and white marble. The staircase was remodeled to sweep up the side of the hall. And that meant that the whole of the upper floor had to be re-modeled too.  
At a halfway point there was a door leading to the steam room. The stairs continued to the upper level where the original eight bedrooms were transformed into four suites each with oversized bathrooms dominated by sunken bathtubs. Her daughter reigned over her own domain in a suite that had been added above the extension to the lower level. Her bedroom was round; leading from it were her bathroom and her playroom and, of course, the suite for the live-in maid who was employed to take care of Sally-Ann.

This morning Sally-Ann was with her maid, playing in the garden. Trixie was in conference with her ‘business manager’, Big Jack Malone. Malone knew everything there was to know about extortion. He also knew how to keep Trixie happy – and had been doing so long before she was obliged to order a whole black wardrobe from her favorite store on Rodeo Drive.  
“Did you ask Ray to do that little job for us?”  
“Yes, honey. His men delivered the message last night.”  
“Good. I want that old witch out of my hair once and for all." She giggled in a childish voice and reached for a bottle. Malone sighed, it was barely ten in the morning and she was already slurring her speech.  
“Haven’t you had enough?”  
“No.” She poured a slug and drained it defiantly.  
“OK Breakfast is over. Now tell me about those two cops.”  
Malone settled into a chair. “The blond is still staking out the warehouse waiting for a non-existent arms deal. The other one, Starsky, has disappeared.”  
“A girl?”  
“Well last time anyone saw him he was dressed up like he was going to a wedding…or a funeral.”  
Trixie giggled.

***************************************************************

  
 _Aw shit I think my stomach is gonna growl._  
Starsky sat as still as he could – trying to conserve energy. He swallowed every precious drop of saliva, but he could feel his mouth going drier with every breath; he stole a look at his watch. Two more hours!   
They had taken a couple of breaks and gone out onto the lawn in front of the synagogue. A bit of fresh air would be welcome now.  
He tried to subdue his stomach but failed. One of the Stern kids giggled.  
“Don’t worry, David, it happens to all of us.” Mrs. Stern was smiling up at him.  
“You look pale and you aren’t in the habit of doing this, are you?”  
“No ma’am. To tell the truth, it’s not the lack of food but not being allowed to drink anything. My mouth feels like the Mojave Desert.”  
“I try to nap a little – no-one notices – they think I’m meditating on my life.”  
“I might snore.”  
They both laughed in whispers.

_I wonder what Hutch is doing.  
Dobey is probably on his fourth burger of the day….shouldn’t have thought of that!  
There was definitely someone watching me; hope whoever it was enjoyed the show.  
Suppose someone is watching Hutch. It could blow his cover. I only have to turn my back for a couple of hours…No, that’s not fair, he can hold his own without me; he may have to if I decide to… Not now; that is not for now. Or is it? This is the time to examine my life. So what do I do, stay here and try to carry on despite the memories in every turn of the street? Or take the New York offer and go up a grade? Dad said I should never try to run away; I never have yet. But would it be running away? Wouldn’t it be honoring dad to go back; take over the precinct; his precinct? And have momma nagging me to find a nice girl…I did find a nice girl and Prudholm took her away from me._

He continued to argue in his mind until he noticed that there was no light coming through the windows. Rabbi Stern was saying the last prayers of Kippur.  
“Come on David, you can help me get the table ready – and drink a pint of water!”  
He followed Mrs. Stern out into the cool evening air.

  
***************************************************

The Torino was in its place under the eucalyptus tree  
Hutch groped along the ledge above Starsky’s door and found the key. It was nine thirty in the morning. He had already checked in with Dobey.  
“The word is that the deal is not for today. Go and check up on your partner.”

  
Hutch opened the door quietly. Starsky’s holster was hanging from the coat rack. The apartment was, as usual, neat and tidy. He walked quietly over to the bedroom; and went in. Starsky was not in his room. The bed had been slept in. Hutch turned to the bathroom. The acrid smell of vomit hit him as he walked in. He dreaded what he might see; there was always the terrible chance that Starsky would be too weak to straighten himself up, he could drown in his own vomit. The bathroom was empty. Hutch went back to the bedroom. He opened the closet and saw that Starsky’s knitted jacket was missing – he did a quick check of the rest of the closet and noticed immediately Starsky’s smart suit was in its place. He checked out the rest of the closet; all Starsky’s shoes were there…but there was an empty hanger. He rifled through Starsky’s collection of scruffy jeans and stopped. The pair with the ‘phone number written on the leg was missing. There was an envelope on the pillow. He opened it and took out a photograph of Starsky dressed in his suit and carrying his black velvet pouch; he was opening the Torino’s door. He checked out the room again. No sign of a struggle; had Starsky gone quietly or had he been drugged? He went to the ‘phone and picked up the handset using his cuff to prevent prints.   
“This is Detective Ken Hutchinson. I need a forensic team at (he gave Starsky’s address to the dispatcher). Yes that’s right, Starsky’s place. Now transfer me to Dobey please.”  
He was still waiting for Dobey to take the call when he heard a movement behind him.  
 _Please God I’m over-reacting and he just went out for a walk…no even he wouldn’t go out barefoot._  
He turned to see Huggy standing in the doorway; he was holding a big buff envelope.  
“I thought you should see this, Hutch. The next message just came through.”  
Hutch gestured to Huggy to come in and returned to the ‘phone.  
“Captain, Starsky’s disappeared! I came by to see if he was OK, his car is still here, his suit is in the closet but he’s not here. I called for a lab team. He threw up sometime – but I don’t know if it is connected…a pair of jeans and his big sweater…no shoes and his gun is still here.” He listened for a moment. “Sure. Huggy’s here and he has something to show me. We’ll come to the office when the lab team has finished here.”

  
Hutch put down the ‘phone and turned to Huggy. “Sorry Hug, but I can’t ask you to sit down. I want them to go over this place with a fine-toothed comb. What do you have?”  
Huggy frowned and held out the envelope. As Hutch opened it and registered the contents; Huggy explained how he had received it.  
“When I got to the bar this morning I saw that someone had written something on the message board. I left the note in place in case you want it checked for prints. I took the board down and put it in my office.”  
“Good thinking.”  
“Thanks. So, like I was saying, the message was a big arrow pointing to this envelope on the table and underneath it said…’He’s safe, for now’. I didn’t know what it meant until I opened the envelope. I didn’t think about my prints being on the envelope, sorry!”  
“That’s OK, Huggy; if there are prints on the note it won’t matter.”  
Hutch pulled the photo right out of the envelope and stared at it. Starsky was sitting on a chair and it was evident that his hands were tied behind him. He was wearing his jeans and sweater and his bare feet and chest looked strangely vulnerable. He looked closer; there was a cut above one eye and the blood was trickling down Starsky’s face. He looked utterly dejected and Hutch could see from the expression on his friend’s face that a migraine was still pounding behind his eyes.

  
The lab team arrived and Hutch gave them instructions to check the whole apartment thoroughly. One of the technicians whistled. “Wow, the guy is a better house-keeper than my mom!”   
Hutch looked around. It was true; Starsky’s apartment was as neat and clean as a new pin – whereas even with Fifi’s loving attentions (annoying as she was) his place could look like a tip in a day. “It should make things easier for you to find other prints. Lock up behind you and bring me the key, OK.”  
Hutch led Huggy down the wooden steps and over to his car. They left Huggy’s car and set off for the precinct in Hutch’s rolling trash can. Huggy cleared himself a place on the front seat and threw two odd shoes, a couple of magazines, a molding apple core and three soda cans onto the back seat. Hutch didn’t say a word.

******************************************************

Gerry and Terry were standing in Malone’s office.  
“What do you mean; he wasn’t there?”  
Gerry sighed. His identical twin sighed too. They were two of the best; and the great thing was that they could always make sure of an alibi. If Gerry was trashing a bar, Terry would be making a difficult purchase in a store. When it was Terry’s turn to do a job; Gerry would be conspicuously present in a not-too-crowded bar or restaurant.  
They rarely worked together – visiting Huggy had been an exception – to emphasize their point.  
“He wasn’t there. His flashy car was outside; but he was not there. It looked like he had slept in the bed though.”  
“And you didn’t think to stay a while in case he was out jogging or something?”  
“The way he looked when he came back last night – he wasn’t going to even crawl this morning! Man he looked sick!”  
Malone stared at him. “So why didn’t you take him last night?”  
“Because … you only called this morning!”  
Terry grinned – or was it Gerry? Even Malone had trouble telling the difference.  
“Find him. Trixie is looking forward to meeting him!”

  
Trixie was repainting her toenails. She had a cigarette dangling from the corner of her mouth and a nearly full glass of gin at her side. Malone kissed the nape of her neck as she leaned forward to put the last brush stroke on the nail of her big toe.  
He nuzzled her and she turned to look up into his eyes.  
“Cut it out, Jack; you’re making me smudge the polish.”  
He withdrew.  
“Did they bring him?”  
“No; he wasn’t there. It sounds like someone else got there first. Trouble is I can’t think who.”  
“That old witch Edna?”  
“Maybe…I’ll see what the word is.”  
“What about the blond?”  
“He’ll be hitting his own little panic button if his partner isn’t at work tomorrow.”  
“Well maybe he can help us to find his friend – and then we’ll kill two birds with one stone.” She giggled at her own weak joke.

**************************************************

Starsky had come home around nine-fifteen. His head was pounding and all he wanted was to get to bed and take a couple of pain-killers. All the same, he undressed and put his suit carefully on a hanger and into the closet. He kicked off his shoes and put them in their place and went into the bathroom to put his shirt and socks into the laundry basket. He took the bottle from the cabinet and swallowed two pills with a gulp of water from the faucet. He crawled into his bed, still wearing his shorts.

  
He must have been a sleep. He woke to nausea and was throwing up in the toilet bowl when heard someone come into the apartment. _Probably Hutch, come to see if I need a nursemaid._ He hauled himself up and turned. It wasn’t Hutch! He slumped back and threw up again.

  
“Oh shit – that’s disgusting!” Rough hands pulled him to his feet and dragged him into the bedroom. He allowed himself to be dumped on the bed.  
“Find something to dress him.” It was the same voice; Starsky couldn’t be sure if the speaker was a man or a woman. The voice was husky and his head was buzzing.   
They were forcing his legs into jeans; the rough denim seemed to scratch his legs like the sandpaper he used to smooth the wood of a model. As always; his migraine put every one of his senses on high alert. He felt the pressure as a hand closed his zipper.  
He was pulled to his feet and now they were putting his arms into something soft and bulky.  _My sweater…mmm…nice and warm._  
“Can you carry him?” The husky voice asked.   
“No problem!”  
Starsky was aware of being hoisted over someone’s shoulder in a fireman’s lift. Head down; his brain throbbed and he gagged.  
“If he throws up down my back……..”  
“Shut up and get him to the car.”  
Being carried down the stairs was torture, but he managed to control the urge to throw up again. He was busy trying to identify the second voice.  
He was upright again and being shoved into a car. He groaned.  
“Hey Starsky; don’t you want to open your eyes?”  
“Light hurts.”  
They tied a blindfold around his face. “Doesn’t matter if you open them now.”

  
The car stank of stale cigarettes. Starsky battled with the burning fluid that was rising in his throat. He swallowed hard and then passed out.

  
When he came to, he was tied to a chair. A flash of light blinded him; then another. ‘Husky Voice’ was in the room. “Get a close up of his face…we’ll take a second shot later.”  
The camera flashed again. Starsky tried to open his eyes enough to see where he was and who was doing this to him. The room was in almost total darkness. His head felt like someone was trying to drill through from his brain to his nose. He was thirsty and, yes, he was scared. Something about this didn’t add up – although in his current state he was not able to think clearly enough to see what it could be.  
“Hey,” he was pretty sure he said it aloud; the reply told him he had.  
“Yes handsome?”  
“Find me something for this headache willya. I have a real migraine.”  
“Oh Sweetheart; why didn’t you say so? I have what you need.” There was a pause as Husky Voice turned away. “Get him to the other room – and be kind to him.”  
Someone untied him and lifted him gently. He was carried a short distance and laid down onto a soft bed. They undressed him and tucked him up. They held a glass of water to his lips and someone put two pills into his mouth.  
“No pills…throw…throw up…”  
“Don’t worry, one of them is an anti-emetic; you won’t throw up and your headache will soon be gone.”  
He slipped into deep sleep

**************************************************

They were sitting in conference in Dobey’s office. Hutch and Huggy faced Dobey across the desk. Sitting next to Dobey was Federal Agent Mick Tanner.  
Hutch had never met Tanner before, but he had heard good things about him and for once did not feel hostile to a guy from the FBI. Tanner had information that put the ball into a new game-plan.  
 _If Starsky was here he’d say he heard the crowd whistle_. Hutch had never forgotten Starsky’s remark about being suckered in a High School football game.

  
Tanner was speaking.  
“…so we can be sure that the arms deal is just a side-show to keep you away from more important things. The second Mrs. Tallman’s family is moving in.”  
Huggy looked at Hutch and then at Dobey. “Excuse me if I seem a little under-informed here, but what is he talking about?”  
“Simple Hug; Trixie Tallman has a brother in Vegas….if I tell you that her maiden name is Kelly, does that help?”  
Huggy whistled. “That explains it.”  
Dobey leaned forward. “Explains what, Huggy?”  
Huggy grimaced. “I didn’t really take it in when they were trashing my place; but someone mentioned ‘taking Curly on a long trip’.”  
“Curly!” Hutch exclaimed. “They have Starsky; but where?”  
Tanner had the answer. “I had a report that Geena Kelly and a one of her brothers were seen returning to Vegas round one this morning. They had another man with them – he looked sick.”  
Hutch rubbed his hand over his face.  
“Does the Mann Act still apply?” Everyone laughed. Tanner took up the joke: “well, I don’t think Starsky consented to being taken over the State line by a member of the opposite sex but….”  
“The point is,” Dobey cut the humor short, “Starsky appears to have been kidnapped and we do not have any idea why. Hutchinson, you’d better go to Vegas and see what you can find out. Do you still have contact with someone in the Police Department out there?”  
Hutch thought for a second. Although he and Starsky had not always been on the best of terms with him the last time, Hutch knew that he could count on Cameron.  
“Yes. Cameron.”  
“Well what are you waiting for?”  
Hutch stood to leave and Huggy started to follow suit.  
“No, Huggy,” Dobey said, “I have something more to talk to you about.”  
Huggy sat down again and Hutch left the room.

Tanner and Dobey looked at one another and Dobey signaled to the Fed to go ahead.  
“We need you to play a little role for us Mr. uh Mr. uh….”  
“Brown. But my friends call me Huggy.”  
Tanner smiled quietly. “Huggy, I believe that you are able to make contact relatively easily…I mean…you are a valuable source of information for Detectives Starsky and Hutchinson; am I right?”  
Huggy nodded; his eyes were half closed as if he knew what was coming and was already considering his answer.  
“It would be helpful to us if you could give certain people the impression that you no longer care to give information to Starsky and Hutch. In fact, I think it would be best if certain people believed that you were no longer their friend – more their enemy.”  
Huggy stared at Dobey. “Who is going to believe that, Captain?”  
Tanner continued.  
“Can’t you find a way of making people believe that you are no longer on speaking terms?”  
Huggy swallowed.  
“Does Hutch know about his Captain?”  
Dobey avoided his gaze.  
“Captain?”  
“No. But he will be kept informed.”  
“OK, on one condition.”  
Tanner missed a beat. “What condition?”  
“I tell Hutch.”  
Tanner and Dobey nodded. Huggy stood up. “In that case, if you will excuse me gentlemen, I’m going to talk to Hutch; and then I’ll get the word out as you want.”  
As soon as Huggy had left the room, Dobey turned an angry face to Tanner. “This had better work!”  
“It will, Captain; it will.”

  
Huggy found Hutch at his desk; he was talking on the ‘phone and gestured to Huggy to take Starsky’s place opposite him. Huggy fingered the Piggy Bank on the desk while Hutch finished his call.  
“What is it Hug? You look like someone just died.”  
“As long as it isn’t our friendship.”  
“Huh?”  
“They want me to put out the word that I’m no longer on speaking terms with you two. I said I’d only do it if you were OK about it.”  
Hutch blinked. “Do you know why they want that?”  
“Yea. It seems that they think I can make contact and find out who has Starsky.”  
“Then do it Huggy. As long as I know the truth…and we find Starsk…it doesn’t matter.”  
Huggy stood up and put the Piggy Bank back in its place. As usual Starsky’s desk was clear of all extraneous stuff – there was a pot of pencils and a file but nothing else; Huggy had the feeling that his friend would notice immediately if the Piggy Bank had been moved by a fraction of an inch. Superstition made him leave Starsky’s desk as he found it.

  
Hutch went straight back into Dobey’s office. Tanner had already left.  
“Huggy just told me.”  
“Sit down Hutchinson and listen.”  
Hutch served himself at the water cooler and resumed his seat.  
“Tanner thinks that this is all a big diversion to keep us out of a takeover. The Kelly family wants the drug action here…and that means that they need to get an advantage over the Tallmans.”  
“I guess with the feud going on between the two Mrs. Ts that would be easy enough.”  
“Not as easy as you think. It is possible that Trixie Kelly-Tallman does not know what is going on. If Huggy puts out word that he is no longer on your side, we hope that one or other of the interested parties will get in touch with him.”  
“But what about the people who trashed his place – they were working for O’Malley – and he’s tied to Junior.”  
“We have reason to believe that Junior is not the loyal momma’s boy he appears to be.”  
Hutch rolled his eyes. This was turning into a maze – every time you think you’ve found the way out another brick wall blocks you. In this story it was as if nothing was what it seemed to be. The only thing he was sure about was that Starsky had been kidnapped.”

****************************************************

Starsky was trembling – or shivering. He had no idea where he was; all he knew was that he felt like he was dying. The sheets were soaking. He was groaning and whimpering and seemed to be trying to fight away the blankets.  
Geena Kelly touched his face and withdrew her hand as if it was burned.  
“C-c-c-cold.” He muttered something else, but she couldn’t make it out. There was something wrong here.  
“Are you OK?” Her voice seemed even huskier with concern  
“Dunno. I d-d-d-d-don’t know if I’m cold or hot. I can’t stop trembling.”  
His voice was so quiet and hoarse he sounded as if he was dying.  
She stroked his cheek, he was burning up, and he nuzzled into the pillow hugging the blankets around him.  
“What about your headache?”  
Another groan.  
“I f-f-feel si-si…” He leaned out of the bed and started to retch. A cool hand touched his forehead and Geena eased him back to the pillow. “It’s dry heaves…you don’t have anything left to throw up. Hey I know about migraines; you should have told us – we wouldn’t have been so rough with you.”  
“How nice…a kidnapper with a heart! What did you give me?” His voice was hoarse and strained.  
“I told you, I know about migraines – I gave you some of my pills. How’s your head?”  
“Exploding out through my eyes; feels like my brain’s running down my nose”  
“I’m going to call my doctor. Try to sleep, OK?”  
He heard her leave the room.

  
“What do you usually take for a migraine, David?”  
Starsky didn’t bother to ask how this doctor knew his name; his throat was dry and he croaked out the name of the drug.  
“That explains it. Geena, I know you meant well, but what one person has on prescription isn’t always good for someone else. David here takes a morphine-based treatment; not what you take. In rare cases; a patient can have an adverse reaction to your medication - and that is happening here.”  
He looked at Starsky who was now shaking violently and sobbing; he seemed terrorized.  
“I’m going to give you a shot, David. It will counteract the reaction and relieve your pain.”  
Starsky withdrew into the bedclothes. “No!” He buried his arms under the covers. “No; please, not a shot.” He was like a frightened child. Geena sat on the edge of the bed.  
“Come on, it will soon be over. Give me your arm…”   
“No!” Starsky burrowed further under the covers. “Please…Please…no…”  
She turned back the edge of the blanket and stroked his clammy face. “Come on; give me your hand.”  
She reached into the bed and held his hand in hers. He allowed her to take his arm out from under the blanket.  
“Grip my hand, David; I don’t mind if you hurt me. Hold on tight and it will soon be over.”  
Her voice was so kind and soothing; he knew he could trust her. He stretched out his arm and squeezed her hand in his…he didn’t feel the needle.  
“Go to sleep now. I’ll stay with you. I’ll be here when you wake up.”  
“Water…I need to drink…”  
She held a glass of cool water to his lips and he managed a couple of sips before sinking into a deep sleep.  
“Poor guy,” she said as she crept out of the room. “I’ll just have to look after him as best I can.”

**************************************************************

Huggy left the precinct and went across the road to a phone booth.  
“Rolly? It’s Huggy. I want you to spread the word that I ain’t ever going to co-operate with Starsky and Hutch again…why? My joint gets trashed and they don’t give a flying…!”  
He replaced the handset and grinned. The next call was to Metro Cabs. He needed to get his car from outside Starsky’s place and he could spread the word at the same time.  
The cab arrived and when he saw who was driving he knew he’d made the right decision.  
“Can you believe those guys? My place gets trashed and all they can think of is to call me over to Starsky’s place and then haul me over here to give me even more of a bad time. I gotta get my car back, ‘cos Starsky’s disappeared; and as of now, we are no longer speaking.”

After he finally returned to The Pits he made one more call. Mickey would finish the job for him.

Hutch made a couple more calls to Vegas before returning to his place to throw a few things into a bag. He arrived at the airport with fifteen minutes in hand – and lost ten of them trying to find somewhere to park. With five minutes to go he ran to the boarding gate – setting off the alarm at the metal detector as he did. Two security men gave chase and Hutch managed to flash his badge just in time. He arrived at the gate and sprinted up the gangway. As soon as he was on board the plane the stewardess closed the door.

  
The flight arrived on time and Cameron was there to meet him.  
“Glad to see you again Hutch; I hear your partner might already be here.”  
“I wish I understood what is going on; but yes, all the evidence says that someone kidnapped Starsky and brought him here.”  
He followed Cameron to his car. They were about a mile from the airport when the radio crackled. Cameron took the mike.  
“Cameron.”  
“Patch through from Captain Dobey, do you have his officer with you?”  
Cameron handed the mike to Hutch.  
“This is Hutchinson.” There was a crackle of static and then Dobey’s voice came through loud and clear. “Get a flight back here, Hutch. There is something going down and I need you here.”  
“What about Starsky?”  
“LVPD will deal with it, Hutch. I need you here.”  
Cameron had already turned around and was driving through the airport entrance.  
“Short trip; better luck next time!”  
Hutch went straight to the American Airlines desk and presented his return stub. The clerk looked at it. “But sir, you have only just arrived!”  
“Yes, and now I’m leaving. Please get me on the next flight – it’s a Police emergency. He showed his badge.”  
“There is a flight leaving in fifteen minutes.”  
Hutch snatched the ticket and ran to the gate. The plane was the one he had arrived on and the crew was on turn-around. The stewardess greeted him and showed him to his seat. “I guess he lost all his money in a slot machine at the airport.” She said to her colleague.

Hutch found his car. He could have sworn that he had parked on a legitimate space – but there was something tucked under the wipers. He grabbed the paper and saw that it was not a ticket; it was another envelope. He opened it.  
It was the same photo of Starsky. He turned it over and read the note. “So close; but not close enough.” Instinctively he turned around to scan the area – how did they know that he was back? Come to think of it; who were “they”?  
He watched the passengers from his flight as they filed out of the airport – none of them had been on the outward flight. Even if it had been one of the passengers; how did they get to his car so quickly? The stewardesses were coming out of the terminal and one of them waved to him with a friendly smile. A stewardess…or a member of the aircrew who could radio ahead? He waved back and motioned an invitation; she came over.  
“Can I give you a ride into the city?” He turned on the blue-eyed blond charm.  
“Oh that is so sweet of you. I have a ten hour break before we go back to Vegas.”  
“I thought you were maybe based here – the flight was a back-to-back wasn’t it?”  
“You know the lingo huh?”  
“I’ve dated a few stewardesses in my time.”  
“I’ll bet you have.” She licked her lips and stared him straight in the eye. “It was a back-to-back but my duty started in Vegas on the flight out here last night…I go home again on the first flight tomorrow – I have to report in at 6 am.”  
“Well maybe I can offer you dinner.”  
“You certainly can!”

  
Dinner was a take-out pizza which they ate in the kitchen. They had dessert in the bedroom. Hutch learned a few tricks he had never seen before – but that was all. If this girl was involved in Starsky’s disappearance, she knew how to keep a secret.  
A flash of light outside the window woke Hutch up. Peggy was gone. He rolled out of bed and peered at the clock in passing. She had another hour and half before she had to be at the airport. He saw that her uniform was still neatly folded on the chair – his pants and shirt were scattered across the floor as usual. She came in from Hutch’s glazed patio; she was holding a small mirror.  
“Oh great, you’re awake; I think I have an eyelash in my eye. I didn’t want to wake you so I went out there.”  
Hutch let that go by…the lighting in the patio was not strong enough for her to be able to see if she had anything in her eye – but it was enough to send a signal. He went along with her story and led her to the bathroom.  
“The best light is in here,” he said. There was nothing in her eye and he suggested a shower. This time it was Hutch’s turn to teach her a new trick.  
Over coffee he said: “I’ll call you a cab – I have to work.”  
She didn’t argue.  
“Will I see you again?” she asked.  
“I certainly hope so. Give me your number.”  
She wrote a phone number on a piece of paper and tacked it on his bulletin board. She laughed “I hope you can tell which is which!”  
“I remember the ones worth remembering.”  
“Am I worth remembering?”  
“You are going to be in my mind.”

  
Hutch arrived at the station just as Dobey was leaving with a SWAT team.  
“Come on Hutch; I’ll explain on the way.”  
They were driving to the docks; and Hutch recognized his tree-house from the last stake-out.  
“But I thought….”  
“We all thought it was a hoax; that’s what they wanted. Huggy got word that the deal is for real and for tonight. Since he put it out that you guys are no longer speaking every hood and player in the city is bragging to him about the heists they are planning!” Dobey chuckled.   
The SWAT team was in position and Hutch crouched behind Dobey’s car watching and waiting and holding his breath.  
An hour later Hutch had cramp; Dobey’s stomach was growling and the SWAT team was getting restless. A truck appeared at the far side of the warehouse and two men stepped down from the cab.  
Hutch recognized Gerry and Terry. Something didn’t add up. All the evidence had been that his heist was O’Malley’s work; so what in the hell were these two doing here?   
He whispered to Dobey. “Something’s wrong. Those two work for Malone, and he works for Trixie Tallman. The word was that this heist is O’Malley’s gig. There is no reason for them to be here…unless…”  
Dobey looked at him. He continued; “…unless we are being set-up again.”   
As if to answer his remark the twins climbed back into the truck and drove away. As it turned the corner of the building an arm appeared through the window and gave them the finger.  
The SWAT commander was furious. He stalked over to Dobey’s car and demanded an explanation. Dobey suggested that they go back to his office. The commander dismissed his men. Dobey drove in silence until they arrived at headquarters. “Go home Hutch; we’ll talk about it in the morning.”

  
The next envelope was tucked into the ironwork pattern on the front door of Hutch’s apartment. He opened it. It wasn’t a photo of Starsky. It was a photo of Peggy standing in the patio.  
 _Who is watching me? And why?_  
He went to bed.

  
Hutch went straight to Dobey’s office. He stopped short; the Captain was opening a buff envelope. Hutch sat down and raised his eyebrows.  
“Mine was of my …uh…house-guest.”  
Dobey gave him the photo from his envelope. It was of Dobey and Hutch arriving at the stake-out.  
“Someone is trying to tell us something.”  
Dobey gave him a sour look. “I’ve been on the force long enough to draw that conclusion without your help; Hutchinson.”  
“Is there something you haven’t told me?” Dobey sounded worried.  
“Well Captain, the other day on the stake-out I was sure someone was watching me. And when I got to Starsky’s place…there was a photo; someone had been watching him too.”  
Dobey was looking for something on his desk. “I also received this one this morning.” Hutch looked at it and grinned. “He always did want to be a stripper!”

************************************************************

Edna Tallman was furious. For the fourth time in the space of three weeks the deal had fallen through at the last minute.   
“I do not care to hear your excuses, Mr. Garcia. I ordered certain goods from you over one month ago. My people have been in place at every set-up you have chosen – but your people never show. Now, either I have delivery within the next forty-eight hours or you will have to find a new customer; which will not be easy for you because I will make it my business to tell all my colleagues about your lousy delivery schedules. I expect that delivery Mr. Garcia and now I’m the one who is giving the meeting place.”  
She looked up at her son who was cleaning his fingernails with a letter-opener.  
“Frankie, shall we invite him here or to the warehouse?”  
“The warehouse mom.”  
She turned back to the ‘phone. “Garcia; I have a warehouse over in South Central, “ she gave the address of an office supplies store, “have your man there tomorrow morning at ten am sharp.” She hung up before Garcia could reply.

  
“Now Frankie darling; what was it you wanted to talk to me about?”  
“I think we have a traitor in our camp.”

*********************************************

  
Starsky slept fifteen hours straight. At first he tossed and turned and moaned and whimpered. His fever was burning his face red and sweat poured down his cheeks along with his tears. He was fighting his way through sickness and nightmares.  
Geena stayed at his side. She dabbed at his face with a towel soaked in cold water and stroked his hair. After a while the shot began to take effect and he calmed down. Soon he was sleeping peacefully, lying on his back with his face relaxed into one of the sexiest smiles Geena Kelly had ever seen in her life. “This could turn out to be a lot more interesting than I thought it was going to be…he is stunning!”  
Geena Kelly was not a woman to take her men lightly. She grew up in one of Vegas’ toughest families. She had no brothers and her father had groomed her to replace him when the time came. The time had come just after she returned from Europe. Her father was still young – and so were his killers. The mid-sixties had seen another turn in the fortunes of the mobsters that had always run “Sin City”. New money was coming into Vegas all the time and the old and the new clashed regularly. Ted was most definitely ‘old money’; his hold on the Strip dated back to the heady days when Vegas was still just a dusty little town where the railroad and construction crews went to get a little light relief. Ted’s father had seen the potential of providing lonely men with the distractions of wine, women and song. When the New York mob started to move in and build casinos; Kelly senior had gleefully added gambling to his offer. The proceeds of his enterprise sent his son to Yale and his grand-daughter to Wellesley and Grad school in Europe. After a few years of threats and counter-threats Ted lost the fight. They found his body in a shallow grave just behind the construction site where the newest and biggest hotel on the strip was rising out of the desert. He had been strangled. And that left Geena to take over Daddy’s business. Geena had learned business management at the London School of Economics. Her golden looks and her husky Marilyn-crossed-with-Carol voice gave most of the men in the business the impression that she was just another Vegas blonde with money; until they came up against her steely no-nonsense management. She not only sat on the Kelly Empire’s throne – she was the power on it, behind it and probably under it too. Her cousin had a part in the Empire. He was responsible for “debt collection” and any other incidents that might need a firm hand to regulate. He had a well-trained team of very firm hands to do the job as and when required. There was one other reason why Cousin Vince was so useful to Geena – his sister; Trixie Tallman. Trixie’s boyfriend, Malone, had said that he needed a favor and Vince had been only too happy to help. Geena had her own reasons for getting involved in this caper – but she wasn’t sharing that with anybody right now. Besides she had other things on her mind, including the welfare of the sexiest guy she’d ever laid her eyes on.  
The trouble with Geena (Vince had been heard to say) is that she always wants to get inside some guys pants!  
He wasn’t far off the mark. It wasn’t as if she was a nymphomaniac; she just loved sex! She didn’t see how it was ok for Vince to go from bed to bed but not ok for her. Besides, some of her adventures had been very helpful in increasing the company turnover…if Vince would pardon the expression. Vince would have pardoned it if he had got the joke – but he was as dumb as his cousin was clever.

  
So now Geena was staring at this gorgeous hunk of a man sleeping in her bed and in need of all the TLC she could give him. She didn’t really know why he was here – and frankly her attitude was one big “Rhett Butler”… she didn’t give a damn! She had been asked to organize a kidnapping and she’d been happy to play; knowing that the stakes included a large interest in the Tallman operation. She had no idea who he was; but she had every intention of getting to know him very well in the next couple of days.  
He stirred in the bed and moaned. She touched his shoulder and he snuggled further under the covers muttering “Piss off Blondie; let a guy sleep willya.” She reflected on his attitude to his girlfriend and shrugged. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d broken up a couple; if he was the rugged macho type, all the better. She left him to sleep and went to find herself some coffee.

******************************************************

  
Hutch sat at his desk and pulled a legal pad out of the pile of papers and files in front of him. He drew up two columns and stared at the page in front of him. He knew that somehow he had missed something and that the thing he had missed was important and probably only too obvious! He looked across the desk instinctively, hoping to get some guidance, and sighed with frustration.

The columns stayed blank. He could only state the obvious – they had been suckered and Starsky was missing. That was it! Starsky was missing; and so far no-one had made any demands. No ransom. No ultimatum. No warning that if Hutch didn’t stay out of things… The only message had been delivered to Huggy when The Pits was wrecked. Even that didn’t make sense. The Pits was wrecked by two guys who used to work for Tallman. He decided that it was time to pay a few courtesy calls.

First stop was Brentwood. He stood in the porch and listened to the tasteful chimes echoing and fading through the house. The door was opened by a butler straight out of Agatha Christie. He must have been six foot six, because he stared down his long nose at Hutch as if he could smell something unpleasant. Hutch showed his badge and asked, politely, if Mrs. Tallman was home. The butler motioned him inside.  
“Wait here. I’ll ask if Madam is receiving visitors.” He walked slowly across the hallway and into a room to the left. Hutch decided to give it a count of twenty then he was going in “receiving” or not. He had counted to fifteen when “Jeeves” returned.  
“Madam will see you, sir.” He led Hutch across the hall and opened the door to usher him into Edna Tallman’s presence.  
Edna Tallman was sitting in a wing chair; her legs were gracefully crossed at the ankle and she appeared to be reading a business report. She looked up at Hutch over the frames of her reading glasses.  
“Officer Hutchinson; I don’t believe we ever had the pleasure.” She held out an elegant hand; Hutch hesitated – did she expect him to shake it or kiss it? He opted for a polite handshake. “Please, take a seat. To what do I owe this interesting visit?”  
Hutch was caught off balance by her manner. She was almost too polite. He cleared his throat. “Well ma’am, I was hoping that you might know something about a kidnapping.”  
“Kidnapping! Who has been kidnapped?”  
“My partner.”  
“I see; and you think that I have something to do with this. Officer Hutchinson, my husband and I may have had many activities that did not entirely follow the law that you so efficiently uphold; but kidnapping was never in our repertory.”  
Hutch let her finish. “I know that ma’am. But two of your employees trashed the bar belonging to a friend of mine, and then he found a message and….”  
Edna looked at him and then shook her head. “I know nothing about that. I think we should ask my son if he can help you.” She picked up a phone and tapped three buttons.  
“Frankie, darling, could you spare us a moment?” She hung up and smiled at Hutch. “I’m forgetting my manners, Officer Hutchinson; can I offer you a drink?” Hutch shook his head. “Oh of course; not while you are on duty. Tea? Coffee? A glass of milk?” Again Hutch declined – he sensed that she was mocking him and was having trouble keeping his anger hidden. A door at the end of the room opened and Frankie ‘Junior’ Tallman walked over to stand beside his mother’s chair. Hutch looked at him carefully. He was the image of the man his father must have been twenty five years earlier; Hutch wondered if he was as ruthless. Hutch figured that Frankie must be around forty years old.

“Officer Hutchinson; I’m sorry, Sergeant Hutchinson…I believe you and your partner were promoted since the last time you were involved with my family.” The sarcasm dripped from his lips. Hutch returned the fire with ease.  
“That was while ago, Tallman; you may even have to congratulate us again before long.”  
Edna glared at her son. “Enough Frankie! Sergeant Hutchinson, please excuse my son.” She turned to Frankie. “The sergeant has some questions and he hopes that we might be able to help him to answer them.”  
Frankie sat down on the chair nearest to his mother; leaving Hutch the choice of an uncomfortable-looking footstool or standing. He decided that he would have more of an advantage if he remained standing.

“I have two situations that do not make sense; Mrs. Tallman. The first is the rumored arms deal that never goes down – but for which some of your men seem to be ready. The second…the second is a kidnapping.”  
He paused and felt rather than heard Edna Tallman draw her breath. Frankie remained impassive and began to examine his badly chewed finger nails.  
“Perhaps,” Edna spoke carefully, “perhaps we can deal with one issue at a time, Sergeant.”  
Hutch smiled. “Where would you prefer to start ma’am?”  
Instead of answering him; she turned to Frankie. “What do we know about an arms deal, Frankie?” “Nothing, mother. I haven’t heard anything about any arms deals in the city, Sergeant . Are you sure that the information you have is correct?”  
Hutch didn’t miss a beat. He stared Frankie down and waited a second. “My information comes from more than one reliable source, Mr. Tallman. Does the name Casey mean anything to you?” Now it was Frankie’s turn to stay as impassive as possible.  
Casey was one of O’Malley’s most reliable men. If Hutch was implying that Casey was informing; it meant that he had sources closer than Frankie had thought; and that could put Frankie into a very difficult position if certain other information came to light – especially in front of his mother.  
“The name means absolutely nothing to me, Hutchinson. Mother, have you ever heard of someone of that name?” “Not since you watched TV as a child my dear; do you remember Casey Jones.” They laughed and Hutch forced himself to stay calm.  
“OK, let’s talk about kidnapping; which as you know is a very serious offence; it is a Federal offence when the victim happens to be a police officer.”  
This time both the Tallman’s looked at him in surprise.  _This time they are going to tell me the truth._  
Edna spoke first. “Who is the victim?”  
“My partner.”  
Frankie studied his nails with a renewed interest. Edna appeared not to notice and continued. “Do you have any indications?”  
“No ma’am; that’s why I have come to see you. I thought you might have…with all your contacts…I mean your wide circle of business associates…”  
“What you mean, Hutchinson, is that because we are involved in certain activities we must necessarily be in contact with all the criminal elements in this city. I am sorry to disappoint you, young man; but I do not invite all the pimps and hustlers in town to my dinner table. No, Sergeant Hutchinson, I have not heard anything about the kidnapping of a police officer.”  
Hutch turned to Frankie. “What about you?” Frankie looked up from his nails. “Nothing.” He stood up. “Now if you will excuse me I have an important call to make.” He glanced at his mother and Hutch thought of a child waiting for permission to leave the table. Edna nodded and Frankie left the room; Hutch stood up and started to walk to the door. “Are you sure he always tells you the truth, ma’am?” Edna looked at him sharply. “Frankie may have been a spoiled child, officer, but the one thing his father would not tolerate, was lying. Yes, I am sure that he is telling the truth.”  
Hutch smiled and left the room.

  
Back in his car he reached for the radio. “Zebra Three to control…patch me through to Dobey please, Mildred.” He waited, drumming his fingers on the wheel. “Captain; I want a twenty-four hour tail on Frankie Tallman…I’ll explain when I get back; but I’m not leaving here until a back-up unit arrives.” He started the engine and slid around a corner to a position where he could see the Tallman’s gates; without being seen. He settled into his seat and waited for his replacement to arrive. Twenty minutes later the brown four-door Torino that Kalowitz drove, appeared in his rear-view mirror. Hutch stepped out of his car and went to speak to his colleague. “I have a feeling that Frankie doesn’t always tell mommy who he has gone to play with. Keep a close eye on Junior for me.” He got back into his own car and drove back to the station.

Dobey and Tanner were waiting. Hutch settled into his favorite chair.  
“Tallman Junior is involved. I don’t know how or even why; but I do know that he is involved. The interesting thing is that I don’t think momma knows what Junior is doing.”  
Tanner looked at him carefully. “What do you think is going on?”  
“If I knew that I’d be out there dealing with it, Tanner.” Hutch’s voice was rising dangerously. Dobey barked a warning. Hutch ignored him. “I mentioned that Starsky has been kidnapped. Edna Tallman really doesn’t know anything about it; but Junior… he suddenly had an important call to make. He acted like he knew much more than he wanted me, and more to the point, Edna, to know.”  
“What do you want from me?” Tanner asked.  
“A wire tap. I want Tallman’s ‘phone under twenty four hour surveillance; and I’d like his car tapped too. I mean, we can set up a tail but he’s clever, a bug would be better.”  
Tanner pushed a sheet of paper to Dobey; “sign here Captain, and we’ll set it up immediately.” Dobey signed and Tanner left the room.  
“Hutch?”  
“Yes?”  
“Do you think Tallman had Starsky kidnapped to keep us away from the arms deal?”  
“No, I’m sure that there is no arms deal. The way Edna reacted…it isn’t an arms deal; but they are waiting for a delivery of something. I don’t think that Edna is involved with the kidnapping…call it a gut feeling; but I just don’t think she is in on it.”

***********************************************************

Geena checked on her house-guest regularly. He was still asleep. His dark lashes were brought into sharp contrast against the pallor of his face. “It takes me four layers of mascara to get lashes like that!” she thought. He stirred slightly, but he was still fast asleep. She sat and watched him for a while. She had never seen a man with such a strange combination of vulnerability and sexuality before. “A sexy, frightened child; like a kid getting over a nightmare.” She was looking forward to finding out more…much more. She started to undress.

***********************************************

As soon as Hutch had left the house; Edna went to find her son.  
“Frankie! What is going on?”  
“Nothing mom.”  
“Don’t lie to me; your father would never have let this happen. If we are implicated in a kidnapping….”  
“Mom; I’m telling you. There is nothing to worry about. We are not involved. Hutchinson’s question was a surprise to me too.”  
“I hope I can believe you, Frankie.”  
“Trust me mom.”  
“I do; and that is what is worrying me right now.” She looked at her watch. “I have a lunch date. Find out what is going on, and make sure that we are not dragged into it!”  
Frankie watched her leave the room. He waited a couple of minutes and stepped over to the window. He watched as his mother’s Cadillac slid out of the gates and smiled.

****************************************************************

O’Malley was waiting for Frankie’s word before making the next move.   
He had already heard that the tracking device had been removed from Hutch’s car – not that it had been connected to anything. The find had its effect; Hutchinson would start to believe that he was under observation.   
The ‘phone on his desk buzzed and he picked it up. “Mr. Tallman is here to see you, Mr. O’Malley.”  
“Thank you Janie; ask him to step into my office.”  
Frankie Tallman appeared in the doorway the instant that O’Malley put down the ‘phone. He did not wait to be asked, but sat down in the most comfortable chair in the room – the one behind O’Malley’s desk. O’Malley was obliged to sit in the visitor’s chair.  
“Gerry; I think we are going to have to change our tactics.” Tallman started to examine his nails. “Hutchinson is beginning to put two and two together. But fortunately for us; he is not too good at math and so far he only gets 22.” He paused to smile at his own joke. O’Malley didn’t get it.  
Tallman continued. “Hutchinson is not so dumb. He has realized that there is no arms deal; but he has not yet understood that there is another deal going down. And, of course, he still hasn’t figure out why Starsky has disappeared. Have you found out about that yet, by the way?”  
“Nothing. I think Trixie might be involved, but I can’t get anything from her people right now.”  
“Keep trying. My mother is very concerned that we must not be involved in that one.”  
“Believe me, we have nothing to do with it, Frankie; nothing. I’ll get my contacts in Vegas to see what they can find out – there has to be reason why Hutchinson went out there.”  
“Do that, Gerry. Now let’s turn our attention to other business. My mother had a long conversation with Garcia today. He has an appointment at the warehouse; I think you should be there to meet him.”  
Tallman gave O’Malley all that information he needed and then stood to leave. “I’m counting on you Gerry. Get the goods and make sure that Garcia never pulls a trick like this again. Never!”  
“Count on me.”  
“I am; and you know what happens to people that I don’t feel I can trust; don’t you Gerry?”

Frankie left the room.  
“Little bastard,” O’Malley thought to himself, “ready to double-cross his mother. We’ll see about that!”

****************************************************************

Geena slid between the sheets and snuggled up to the warm body in the bed. Starsky stirred and moaned gently. She kissed his neck and put her arms around him. She nuzzled his shoulder and started to caress his body. Her hands worked gently down his chest and down to his belly. She followed the furry line down to his crotch. He moaned again and turned towards her. Her hands continued and she felt him harden. Starsky was still half-asleep but his body began to follow its own instincts. She straddled him and guided him into her. His lips found hers and she sucked on his mouth. She continued to lead the way; gently but insistently grinding against his pelvis; he followed her rhythm and awoke enough to continue on his own. As they continued their prone dance she whispered in his ear; “feeling better now?”  
“Mmmmm….” His rhythm became more and more intense and Geena felt herself coming to a climax. He let out a groan and fell away just as she came to her own orgasm.  
“How’s your headache?”  
“Better.” He rolled away and slept again.

  
_I have to be dreaming!  
Oh that’s good; that’s nice…mmmmmm…come closer to me……steady now…not to fast; be gentle with me I still feel kind of fragile here…oohhhh…that’s good…mmmm like that…oh here we go…yes… yes…here I come ready or not…aaahhhhhhh_

Geena tucked herself into the curves of his body and sank into a satisfied sleep.  
 _If that’s what he’s like when he doesn’t really know he’s doing it……._

Starsky woke up and stared at the head on the pillow next to his. Whoever she was; she was beautiful. His headache had gone; and a certain dampness suggested that the lady beside him had something to do with the cure. Hadn’t he heard some place that an orgasm can ease pain? He tried to roll away – he needed to pee – but she opened her eyes and reached out sleepily.  
“Good morning. How do you feel?” It was the husky voice that he had heard before.  
“Uh…uh…fine, I guess. I’d like to hang around for a formal introduction; but I really need the bathroom.”  
“I’m not going anywhere.”  
He sat up carefully; his head was no longer pounding. He slid his legs out of the bed and stood up; he was totally naked – and it seemed to him that it was probably too late for modesty. He went to the bathroom and peed. As he passed the mirror he noticed that he had at least two days’ beard. He had a memory of blood on his face – but there was no sign of a wound. He went back to the bedroom looking forward to getting to know his hostess a little better.  
She was lying on her back and gave him an approving look as he came into the room.  
“Come and lie beside me, David.”  
How could he resist? He slid under the covers and lay on his back beside her.  
“You know my name, but…”  
“Call me Geena.”  
“Hi Geena. How well do we know each other?”  
She grinned and for an answer she gave his cock a friendly tug.  
“That well huh?” He rolled over and kissed her sucking gently on her lower lip before pushing his tongue between her teeth and into the sweet warm cavity of her mouth. Her tongue came to met his, like a small inquisitive animal exploring a new space. He pulled her closer. Her hands moved from his cock to his butt; stroking and gripping the firm muscles. He parted her legs with his hand and slid a finger into the warmth. He turned her slightly and straddled her; pushing gently and thrusting up into that same warm wet place that his finger had prepared. He pushed gently and felt her start to pump and grind beneath him. He rolled them both over so that she was now sitting astride him; he continued his steady pulsating thrusts; taking care to let the enjoyment last as long as possible. She sat across him and bent her face down to his once more. She started to lick his chest and then lay the length of his body. Her tongue found the line of his sternum and then continued to his belly-button. She thrust the tip of her tongue into his belly-button and he felt his rhythm intensify. She withdrew from him and caught him in her mouth just as he reached his final spasm.   
He waited for the moment to pass and felt his energy return. This time it was his tongue that went on a voyage of exploration.   
They lay together in a haze of satisfaction. Geena broke the silence. “Breakfast?”  
“What’s on the menu?”  
“Whatever you like.” He pulled her towards him again. “Honey.”

  
An hour later, after a shower, Starsky was sitting with Geena in her kitchen. Over coffee and toast and honey he tried to find out exactly where he was and, more to the point, why he was there.  
“You do realize that kidnapping a Police officer is a federal offense?” He smiled and spooned honey onto his third slice of toast.  
“They didn’t tell me you are a cop. Are you here against your will; David?”  
He laughed. “It’s not an unpleasant experience; but I don’t remember consenting to come here.”  
“I promise to make your stay here as pleasant as possible.”  
He sipped his coffee and looked up at her; the expression in his deep blue eyes made her want to drag him back to bed there and then. “I’m sure you will. But don’t I get some kind of explanation…or do you always date guys this way?”

The ‘phone rang. Geena answered it on the third ring; she cupped a hand around the receiver and turned away from Starsky. He strained to hear what she was saying.  
“Yes…sure…OK…If that’s what he wants…We’ll deal with it straight away…Don’t worry; we’ll do a very good job…” She laughed at something the other person said. “Oh he has no complaints!”

She put down the receiver and came back to Starsky’s side. “I’m sorry honey pie; but it is time for the next photo session.”  
Starsky stared at her. He remembered the flash of a camera back when his head was still exploding.  
“Maybe you’d like to explain.”  
“We need another photo of you…just to keep the interest up in LA.”  
She took him by the hand and led him down the cellar stairs. There was a chair in the center of the cellar. Opposite the chair, a professional portrait camera; a spot light and a reflective umbrella were set up; it reminded Starsky of a photographer’s studio. She motioned him to sit down. Watching her carefully, Starsky ambled over to the chair and sat with his back straight and his feet planted slightly apart, his knees making perfect ninety degree angles.   
“Relax Dave; I’m not going to hurt you.” She took a small bag from a table and looked inside. She came towards him. He pulled back instinctively; and then grinned. She didn’t have a weapon in her hand; she was holding a stage make-up crayon and a photo.  
She checked the photo and carefully drew a small cut above his left eye. She took another crayon and added a couple of convincing bruises to his cheek and chin before creating the finishing touch by trickling stage blood down his face. By the time she had finished Starsky looked as if he had been worked over thoroughly by someone who knew how to do the job with the best results.  
“Try to look a little sorry for yourself Dave.”  
He grinned. “After this morning?”  
“Come on; think of something sad.”  
Starsky thought for a second…and suddenly his face became a vision of dejection.  
Geena took her place behind the camera. “Put your arms behind you as if you are tied up.” He did as she asked.  
“Look at the camera.” He raised sad eyes and looked at her steadily. The flash made him blink. She took a second shot in case the first didn’t come out.  
“Now could you slump forward, Dave; make it look like you can’t keep conscious.”  
He obeyed; whatever this game was, he saw no reason not to cooperate – who could tell that there wasn’t someone else less gentle than Geena in the house.  
“Ok; I’ve got all I need. Come on; let’s clean you up.”  
“Are you inviting me to take a shower?”  
“Yes.” She kissed him and took him by the hand to lead him up the stairs.  
“I’m sure I should be trying to escape but…”  
“One question.”  
“Yeah?”  
“You really did look sad just now; what were you thinking?”  
“I was thinking of the last woman I made love to.”  
“And that made you sad?”  
“She’s dead.”

*********************************************************

This time the photo was delivered by UPS to Dobey’s office. Dobey opened the envelope and pulled out a sheet of paper and an A4 sized photo. He took one look and went to the door of his office.  
“Where’s Hutchinson?” Minnie looked up from the filing cabinet. “I guess he went to the john.”  
“Find him and tell him I want to see him now!”  
Minnie looked at him steadily. “You want me to go to the men’s room?”  
Dobey grunted. “If you want something done in this place…”  
Dobey opened the door to the men’s room. Hutch was nowhere to be seen – but one of the stalls was closed. Dobey addressed the closed door. “Hutchinson, when you’ve finished I want you in my office straight away.” The toilet flushed in reply; Dobey went back to wait.  
“Yes Captain?”  
“We got another photo.” He gave Hutch the photo. “The note says ‘he’s still in one piece…for now!’ I don’t like to see what they’ve done to him.”  
Hutch was studying the photo closely. Starsky had obviously been badly beaten. He had bruises on his face and a black eye developing. There was trickle of blood on his cheek. Hutch looked sick and let the photo drop limp in his hand.  
“Who are they? And what do they want from us?”  
“Get out there and find out. I don’t want to see you back here unless you have a good lead.”  
Hutch took the photo with him; Dobey didn’t protest.

“Look at it Huggy; look at him…he looks like they really worked him over. Poor Starsk – he must have been feeling bad enough without this!”  
Huggy looked at the photo and shook his head. He poured Hutch a second beer.  
“What have you heard, Huggy?”  
“I’ve heard a lot of stuff that doesn’t add up.”  
Hutch took a long swallow of beer. “Tell me what you have.”  
“Well; first I hear that Edna Tallman is very angry with someone…a certain Mr. Garcia. Does that mean anything to you Hutch?” Hutch shook his head.  
“Me neither. Well as I say it would appear that Garcia has let Edna down on a deal and he thinks that he has an appointment with her this afternoon at that warehouse of hers down in South Central; but from what I hear he is going to meet O’Malley and some of his friends.”  
Hutch drained his glass and motioned to Huggy for a refill.  
“Then I heard that Junior is not being straight with his momma.”   
Hutch looked up, ‘that’s what I figured when I went visiting.”  
Huggy nodded and pulled the beer pump. Amber fluid and white foam filled the glass.  
“It would seem that Frankie does not want to share with his mom. And this is the good bit, Hutch; it seems that Trixie has a new lover…and that if she marries him she will not have to change her name again; if you get my meaning.”  
Hutch missed a beat.  
“Run that again. Tallman Junior is… oh that is too good to be true.”  
“It ain’t good news at all.” Huggy sounded deadly serious. “The thing is that O’Malley still has the hots for Trixie – and her inheritance from the old man. Then of course there’s Malone.”  
“Whoa; hold on Huggy, you’ve lost me there.”  
“You had one beer to many; or what?”  
“My mind is as clear as yours Hug; I just can’t keep up with this underworld gossip column.”  
“OK. Before Trixie married Tallman she was living with O’Malley back in Vegas. It was O’Malley that introduced her to the old man – and word was that he wished he hadn’t! Malone is Trixie’s….”  
“I know who Malone is.”  
“Are you sure?”  
“Come on Huggy; everyone knows that since Tallman died, it’s Malone running their business.”  
“And?”  
“And what?”  
“And he’s also sleeping with Trixie – in fact there are those who will tell you that Sally Ann ain’t no Tallman.”  
Hutch drained his beer in one.  
“What about Edna? Does she know about all this?”  
“She knows what Frankie boy wants her to know – you know what they say about mothers of only sons; she’ll believe anything he tells her.”  
Hutch thought about that for a moment; Edna Tallman was a tough old bird in more ways than one – but she’d been surprisingly sure that Frank was telling her the truth.  
He thought for a moment. “Where is the meet with Garcia?”  
Huggy told him again. Hutch ran out of the bar; taking the steps two at a time. Huggy went back to smoking a cigarette and wiping glasses.

On his way to the warehouse, Hutch radioed to Dobey. “I’m heading for the Tallman warehouse in South Central…I could do with some code three back-up.”  
As he continued he listened to Mildred sending out the message to all units in the vicinity. He looked at the clock on the dashboard – it had stopped at six thirty (and he could only guess at how long ago that might have been.) He fished in his pocket and pulled out his fob-watch; the meeting was in forty minutes; that gave him a plenty of time to be in position. He pulled up about a half a block from the warehouse and picked up the radio.  
“This is Zebra three to all units called to my back-up. Please identify yourselves and give your positions.” He listened as three black-and-white crews checked in and told him where they were. “OK, I’m on the corner of …” he checked where he was…” Avalon and East Gage…position yourselves in the same area and advance on foot…. Please switch over to….” He gave the correct band for his walkie-talkie.  
He got out of the car and started to walk towards the warehouse. So far there was no sign of anyone else in the vicinity. He tried a side door and was relieved to find that is was not locked; he slipped into the darkness of the empty warehouse. He paused to allow his eyes to accommodate to the change of light and then looked for a good place to wait. He spotted a pile of wooden crates and climbed up to the top of them.  
He did not have to wait long. One of the main doors opened and someone switched on the lights. Hutch noticed his shadow on the floor in front of the crates and withdrew behind a barrel that was balanced precariously on top of his perch. He held his breath and listened.  
“You; cover the main door. You; get over there and wait in the office. You two come with me.” Hutch heard footsteps as three men walked across the warehouse floor. He looked down and saw them stop to wait; facing the main entrance. One of the men held an attaché case; the other two held pistols fitted with silencers.  
Hutch assessed the situation in his mind. He was not going to be able to radio for reinforcements with these guys immediately below him. He still did not know who they were. When the door opened again he got his answer…and a big surprise.  
Frankie Tallman walked into the warehouse.  
“Everything ready O’Malley?”  
“Just fine Frankie; just fine.”  
“Well then I guess we just have to wait.”  
This doesn’t make sense. Why would Junior come here if O’Malley is supposed to be doing the dirty work?

They all heard a truck pull up outside the warehouse and the horn honked twice.  
“Let them in.” O’Malley shouted. Someone slid open the big loading bay door and a truck backed up to the ramp. The driver and his passenger got out of the cab and came to face O’Malley and Tallman.  
“Mr. Tallman; Mr. O’Malley. I have your shipment.” The voice had a heavy Latino accent – too heavy to Hutch’s way of thinking. Mr. Garcia is no Latino. I wonder who he really is and where he’s from.

O’Malley shouted to his men. “Unload the truck.”  
Garcia smiled and gestured to the attaché case. “I’d like to check the payment first.”  
“You’ll be paid in full just as soon as the truck is unloaded.” Tallman said coldly.  
Hutch heard the whistle in the air. They  _had_  been suckered. O’Malley’s men were unloading big wooden cases that certainly did not contain a drug haul. They were too heavy for one thing.  
Tallman walked over to one of the crates and forced up the lid; he took out a Uzi rifle. Hutch had only heard of these things; now he was seeing one for the first time.  
Tallman smiled and turned to O’Malley. “Pay the man.”  
O’Malley nodded and the two men beside him opened fire. Garcia (or whatever his name really was) and his sidekick fell before they knew what had hit them.   
Up on his perch Hutch started to tune in his radio – and then he changed his mind. It was a risk worth taking; but he wanted Tallman and O’Malley to lead him to the exit from this maze; arresting them would not help him find Starsky – he was sure of that.  
O’Malley called for his other men. “You and you; reload the truck and take it to the safe place. The rest of you can clear up this mess; he gestured to the two bodies on the ground.  
Tallman started to the door; “I’ll see you tomorrow O’Malley.”  
“I don’t think so.” A single shot rang out and Tallman fell.  
 _Damn!_  
Hutch waited for O’Malley to leave; using the cover of the noise that reloading the truck made, he whispered into the walkie-talkie. “Zebra Three to back up; come on in and join the party.” He pulled out his gun and checked the safety before climbing down from his perch. Just as one of O’Malley’s men spotted him, the uniformed officers appeared at the warehouse door. Hutch shouted “You might as well forget it guys; we outnumber you and we have already pulled out our guns!” He left the uniformed men to cuff O’Malley’s men and went back to his car.  
 _I guess someone had better break the news to Edna_. He radioed in to Dobey to tell him what had happened and headed for Brentwood.

*******************************************

Geena was wiping the last traces of make-up remover from Starsky’s face. “I guess you can shave now.” She said and kissed him on the tip of his nose. He grabbed her and returned the compliment. “I don’t have a razor here; and I’ll bet you go to a beauty parlor to have your legs waxed.” She smiled. “You’ll find everything you need in the bathroom.”

Clean-shaven, Starsky came down to find Geena lounging by the pool. He was wearing his jeans but no shirt and he was barefoot. He sat on the lounger bedside her.  
“Am I allowed to ask a question?”  
“Of course.”  
“I don’t want to seem ungrateful; and maybe it is none of my business – except that it is my business because I’m the one who has apparently been kidnapped and brutalized.” He grinned and leaned over to kiss her. “I mean you ‘raped’ me before I was really awake; and then there’s those photos of my ‘injuries’…so what I really want to know; and I think I have a right to ask; is ‘what the hell is going on here?’”  
Geena picked up a bottle of sun oil and handed it to him. “If you oil my back I’ll tell you.”  
“I guess you could start by telling me who you are and where I am.” He started to rub the oil into her back; working down from her shoulders and noting that she had undone the back of her bikini.  
“My name is Geena Kelly;” she paused. “You are allowed to laugh, most people do; I guess my parents couldn’t resist it!”  
“I’m not laughing.” He had heard the name before.  
“This is my home in Las Vegas and I was asked to keep you here as a house guest for a few days.”  
“You have an original way of inviting people to the party.”  
“I know; but it had to look like you’d been kidnapped.”  
He was oiling the small of her back and looking at the two indentions just above the rise of her buttocks. He took a deep breath.  
“Was seducing me part of the plan?”  
“No; I guess that was my own little improvisation. Do you object?”  
Starsky thought about it. “No…no …I guess it helps pass the time.”  
“Believe me, it was a pleasure.”  
“Did I say I didn’t enjoy myself?”  
“You did?”  
“Well I guess that as long as I’m your prisoner; I’ll just have to submit to your wishes.” He smiled as she reached out to unzip his fly.

**********************************************

The snooty butler opened the door but this time Hutch didn’t give him a chance to say anything. “I need to see Mrs. Tallman; I have to tell her something before she hears it from anyone else.” The butler looked at him. “Do I assume that Mr. Tallman Junior has met with an accident, officer?” “How well do you know her?” “I’ve worked for her for over twenty years.” “What’s your name?” “Edwin.” “Come with me, Edwin.”  
The butler led Hutch to Edna’s bedroom. Edna was having her daily manicure; when she saw Hutch and Edwin she motioned to Cathy to leave. She pulled her wrap around her as if she was cold; she stood up. “Frankie?” She swayed and Edwin stepped forward.  
Hutch waited as Edwin led her gently to sit on the edge of her bed.  
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Tallman. Frankie was killed this afternoon. I’m sure you know that he went to meet Mr. Garcia today.” She nodded and closed her eyes. “I knew Garcia wasn’t honest.”  
“It wasn’t Garcia who killed him ma’am. In fact Garcia is dead too. They were both killed by Ray O’Malley.”  
Edna’s face turned white. “O’Malley…I…I…don’t understand. What was he doing there?”  
Hutch sat beside her and held her hand. “The last time I came here I asked you if you believed your son; and you told me that you did. I’m sorry ma’am; but Frankie was working with O’Malley; Frankie told you that Garcia was selling drugs, didn’t he?”  
“Cocaine; two hundred kilos.” She whispered.  
Hutch continued. “Garcia did not deliver cocaine, ma’am; he delivered arms. I believe that your son and O’Malley intended to take more decisive action against the second Mrs. Tallman than you had intended.”  
Edna put her hands to her face and began to weep noiselessly. “That tramp!” she said through her tears. She turned to Hutch. “If I tell you all that I know; do you think we can make a deal.”  
Hutch touched her shoulder. “When you are ready ma’am.” He took out a card. “Call me at this number and I’ll come to see you.” He started to leave. “Oh there is one thing that can’t wait. Do you know anything about my partner?”  
“I wish I did…I wish I did.”

*************************************************

Hutch couldn’t sleep. The image of Starsky beaten and bowed flashed through his mind. He tossed and turned.  _Where are you buddy? If only I knew who was behind this. The ball’s still in the air and I never was much good on the football field._  
He looked at the bedside clock – three am. He got out of bed and made tea. His eyes were tired and he rubbed his face. Once again the picture of Starsky came to his mind…Wait a minute. Where is that photo?  
He searched for the photo that Dobey had given him. He sat down at the kitchen table and looked at the photo again. He took a magnifying glass out of the table drawer and looked again.  _That’s it. Starsky I swear… what you can do with your eyes….._  
He dressed quickly and ran to his car. The tires on both front wheels were flat. He kicked the fender and swore.  
He ran back into the apartment and dialed Huggy’s number. Against the noise of a crowded bar he explained to Huggy that his car was out of action and he needed to get to the station. “Man; haven’t you ever heard of a taxi cab?” Hutch laughed. “Sorry Huggy, I guess I just wasn’t thinking straight.”   
“Hutch; does this have something to do with our curly-headed friend?”  
“Maybe.”  
“I’m on my way.”

  
When Huggy arrived Hutch showed him the photo again.  
“Look at it Huggy. Look really closely. You know how Starsky can communicate with his eyes… here, use this.” He handed the magnifying glass to Huggy.  
Huggy peered through the lens and then looked up at Hutch. “What the hell is going on?”  
“I don’t know. But at least I know that Starsky is not in as much trouble as someone wants us to believe.”   
Huggy didn’t say what was going through his mind out loud. Just as long as Starsky didn’t pull off this stunt to be with a foxy lady.  
“Where do we start Hutch?”  
“I think it’s time for me to visit Trixie.”  
“Not now; it’s four am.”  
“No I guess you’re right; I’ll let her sleep a little longer.”

***********************************************************

Hutch didn’t get to visit Trixie until a lot later that day. He checked into Metro first thing and Dobey gave him the statements taken from O’Malley’s men. The pieces of the puzzle were beginning to fall into place. At least; the straight edges had all been joined but the big picture was still a jumble of mismatched clues.  
According to one of the prisoners O’Malley was working with Tallman and his mother. A second statement told Hutch that O’Malley was working with Malone and Trixie and a third gave him the impression that O’Malley, Tallman and Malone were working without the knowledge of either Mrs. Tallman. Someone mentioned some guy called Kelly – but none of them knew where he fit into the picture.  
The ball was still in the air and as far as Hutch was concerned the football field was getting longer every day. He was sitting at his desk chewing the end of a pencil and staring at the Piggy Bank that marked the frontier between his chaos and Starsky’s order; he ran his hand over his face and leaned back, rocking his chair back to balance on its two back legs. The ‘phone on Starsky’s desk rang. It took Hutch a moment to realize that it was ringing. He leaned across the desk to answer it – using the pencil to push down the button. Minnie grinned at the sight of Hutch’s butt. ”Not bad but you don’t get the candy apple!”  
It was Huggy. “Hutch, I just got something new.” “You want to bring it over here Hug? I have a heck of a lot to do here.”  
“I think you should come here – I have the correct equipment in my office.”  
Equipment? “OK Hug; I guess I can break for lunch.”

As Hutch appeared at the bottom of the steps Anita motioned with her head to tell him that Huggy was already upstairs. Hutch did a quick two-step with a guy from the kitchen, who’d chosen exactly that moment to appear with a tray laden with three plates of spaghetti.

Huggy was setting up a projector and screen. There were two bottles of beer and a plate of sandwiches on the table; Hutch settled down to watch the show.  
And what a show! The woman was beautiful…she was giving head to some lucky guy who was hidden by her superb body. Hutch turned to Huggy. “What is this Hug; if I want to go to a matinee….” Huggy chewed his sandwich and nodded at the screen. The woman had rolled over and the man’s head came into view. Dark curls….”Starsky! What the f…”  
“That’s exactly what he is doing Hutch.”  
“Thank you Huggy, but little Kenny knows the facts of life.”  
“Not all of them!”  
“What do you mean?”  
“Do you know the lady?”  
Hutch gave him one of his “get on with it” looks.   
“Her name is Geena Kelly; she owns half of the Strip and she is Trixie Tallman’s cousin!”  
Hutch nearly choked on his sandwich. He had been watching a porno film of Starsky with the queen of the Vegas underworld.   
“Kelly? Did you say Kelly?”  
“Yea; Geena Kelly – the lady has a reputation as a man-eater (if you’ll pardon the expression, after what we’ve just seen). Looks like Starsky’s being held in silken ropes.”

Hutch tried to explain the maze of information that he’d had from O’Malley’s men.  
“I’m being had; Huggy. Someone is making sure that we don’t know what is going on. And you know what? This movie doesn’t fit in. Think about it; up until now we’ve been shown proof that someone was watching me and Starsk before the stake-out. Then we get photos of Starsky, apparently being held prisoner and messages to try to warn me off something – but what? Now we get this. It doesn’t fit. Why show us that he isn’t being beaten up?”  
“He might not be willing, Hutch; I mean they could have drugged him.”  
“Huggy – look again…Starsky knows exactly what he’s doing.” They both glanced at the film that had continued to run while they spoke. “No way is he doing that against his will!”  
“Where did the film come from Huggy? How did it get here?”  
Huggy switched off the projector. “That’s the reason I thought you should come here to watch this. Malone delivered it in person.”  
Hutch sighed and finished his sandwich.

*****************************************************

“How long do you reckon on keeping me here?”  
Geena looked at him; "they said a day or two – would you like to stay longer?" He grinned. “I should be figuring out how to escape. I  _should_  be trying to contact Cameron to get me out of here. I  _should_  be feeling guilty that Hutch thinks someone is beating me up and keeping me in a cellar. But you know what? I think I’ll accept my fate.”  
“Stay by the pool. I have a little business to do; I’ll be home around six.”  
“Thanks – I need some time to think about something; I guess there’s no time like the present.” He stood up and went to the edge of the pool. She watched as he flexed his body to dive. The muscles of his abdomen rippled and he launched himself into the water. Geena forced herself to leave.

Starsky pulled himself out of the pool and rubbed his hair with a towel. He flopped down onto a lounger and allowed his mind to drift. He’d tried to think it through during Kippur…was that only three days ago? Geena had kind of distracted his attention from the problem but now he had time.  
It was simple enough. A week or so ago Dougherty had called him from New York.  
“Dave; how are you doing? Been promoted yet?”  
“No; I guess Hutch and I haven’t had time to go take the exam – we’ll try again next time around.”  
“You could be lieutenant quicker than that if you want.”  
“What do you mean?”  
“I need a good man in my precinct. Someone I can groom to become Captain after I’ve gone. You know Dave; if your dad hadn’t died, he’d be the Captain in this station, not me. I’m offering you the job your dad should have had.”  
“I’ll have to think about it; you know…I mean I have my life out here and…”  
“Take your time, Dave. Johnny O’Connor isn’t moving to Virginia until the New Year – you have plenty of time;”  
“When do you need my answer?”  
“When you are ready to give it, son.”

So here he was, lying by a pool in Vegas; enjoying being kidnapped, and trying to decide whether to go back to New York and start his life over where memories of Terri wouldn’t jump out at him when he least expected them to. Leave Hutch and all the friendship they’d had behind. Break in a new partner and be the Rookie himself at the same time; he might have lived on those streets as a kid but nearly twenty years is a long time in a place like that. He sighed and turned over to get the sun on his back. As he turned he saw it. The flash of light on a lens. He stood slowly and went into the house. He went up to the bedroom directly above the deck that he’s been lying on and followed the line of vision. He could see him clearly. He was sitting up in the branches of a tree just the other side of the fence surrounding Geena’s estate. He looked carefully.  _Holy Shit! Why would Cameron’s man be filming me here?_  
His decision went back on hold.  _I guess it’s time I started being a cop again._  
He went over to the ‘phone by the bed and dialed.

**************************************************

Hutch was out running; he was running along the new cycle path by the beach. He needed to clear his head of the images that he’d seen at Huggy’s place – and make sense of it. The lady was surely beautiful; and if Starsky was getting a little comfort after all this time, well Hutch couldn’t help feeling happy for him. But it didn’t add up that Starsk would let this happen without trying to make contact with Cameron at least.

The ‘phone in, Hutch’s apartment rang and rang. Back in Vegas Starsky sighed and replaced the handset. He went back to the pool and dived in again. He swam half the length of the pool underwater and then continued back and forward using strong even strokes until he felt his skin begin to wrinkle. He hauled himself out of the pool and lay on the lounger until he was dry.

He went up to the bedroom and dressed. Geena had provided clean jeans and a couple of shirts. He never left the house and garden so he went barefoot – enjoying the feel of carpet or marble or grass under his feet. He went over to the bed and picked up the ‘phone again.

Hutch had just come out of the shower when the ‘phone started to ring again. He wrapped a towel around him and dripped his way across the room.   
“Hutch?”  
“Starsky…where are you?”  
“I’m in Vegas; I’m safe…”  
“Yes I know.”  
There was silence; Hutch heard the unspoken question.  
“Someone sent Huggy a home movie…nice to see you having a good time kiddo. I mean that. You needed the…the therapy!”  
He sensed that Starsky was smiling. “So he’s already made one film has he?”  
“Who are you talking about Starsk?”  
“Cameron. I just saw one of Cameron’s men up a tree filming me by the pool. I guess he has a zoom lens too.”  
 _Cameron!_  Hutch missed a beat.  
“Hutch? Geena says that they only wanted her to keep me here a couple of days…I still don’t know who ‘they’ are. It seems that the idea was to put you off the scent of something. I guess I’ll cooperate until tomorrow – than I’ll find a way to get out.”  
“Starsk?”  
“Yeah?”  
“Enjoy it while you can buddy. I can handle things here for a while.”  
Starsky chuckled as he replaced the receiver.

***********************************************

Geena returned around six thirty. Starsky had put a bottle of good chardonnay to cool in the fridge; he pulled the cork and poured the wine into two big glasses designed to allow the full aroma and flavor of the wine to develop. Geena prepared a salad while Starsky grilled a couple of steaks. They took their food and wine out to the deck and sat at a small teak table by the pool.  
“You know I should try to escape.”  
“If you want to – I won’t do anything to stop you. I got word that I can let you go tomorrow anyhow. What will you do; go to the local cops?”  
Starsky sipped the wine and savored it before swallowing.  
“That might be a problem. Do you know a cop by the name of Cameron?”  
“That bastard! Yes I know him. He dated a dancer at one of my casinos – made her do things that she didn’t want to do; it seems he has strange tastes. Why?”  
“I saw one of his men filming me today. I…uh…I called my partner and he told me that he’d seen a film of us in bed.”  
“I think I’d better call Vince.”  
“Vince?”  
“He’s my cousin; it was Vince organized your little trip…he did it for a friend of his sister. He also heard that Cameron is involved in something that is not kosher.”  
Starsky laughed. “So am I.”  
She leaned over and kissed him. “I didn’t think you were a Catholic!”

Vince arrived an hour later – in time for coffee. He greeted Starsky with a friendly shake of the hand. “Sorry I was little rough with you the other day – I thought you had a hangover!”  
“That’s OK. I guess we have an embarrassing situation here.”  
“Well when you think of it; what did we do wrong? There’s been nothing to stop you walking out of here. Geena and you seem to be pretty good friends…”  
Starsky chuckled. “Yeah. I guess a couple of friends just wanted to give me a vacation in Vegas. I’m more worried about the damage Cameron can do.”  
Vince nodded. “Don’t worry about him. The guy he was working for is dead.”  
Starsky raised his glass. “To absent friends – did I know him?”  
“Frankie Tallman.”  
Starsky choked. “Frankie Tallman’s dead? Who killed him?”  
“The guy who asked us to arrange your vacation.”  
“You know what? I think I’d like to go home – life is less confusing on the coast.”  
They all laughed.  
“I’ll arrange it for tomorrow – you wanna fly or drive?”  
“Fly; it’s quicker.”

After Vince had gone they went upstairs. Their farewells lasted most of the night; as Starsky said, he could always sleep on the ‘plane and Geena had nothing important to do tomorrow.

  
************************************************

Hutch and Dobey were going over all the information they had. Dobey had one of those paper boards that they used for conferences and was drawing lines between names.  
The page was beginning to look like a spider’s web. Minnie knocked on the door and came in without waiting. “Hutch; there’s a lady on the ‘phone; she says she will only speak to you.”  
Hutch pressed the right button on Dobey’s console and said “Hutchinson.”  
“Good morning Hutch. I am calling to tell you that David will be arriving at LAX on flight 214 from Las Vegas – I think it is due in around eleven o’clock.”  
“Who is this?”  
“I’m sure Starsky will tell you all about me.”  
“Geena?”  
She hung up.  
Hutch looked at the clock, it was already ten thirty. “Excuse me Captain; I have to go fetch Starsky from the airport.”  
“I’m coming with you.”  
“No, I think I’d better go alone; I promise to bring him straight here.”  
“You do that.”

  
Starsky walked down the gangway and into the main arrivals hall. He scanned the crowd, spotted Hutch and ran over to him. He was wearing his jeans and sweater and Hutch was relieved to see that Starsky’s hairy torso was covered by a white T-shirt. He looked at his friend’s feet and noted that he had acquired a new pair of loafers.  
“It’s good to be home!” Starsky hugged Hutch as he spoke. Hutch felt the soft cotton of the T-shirt; “Sea Island cotton; don’t tell me, the loafers are hand-made, right?” Starsky smiled sheepishly and sang a few bars of “I’m just a gigolo ….” They both laughed.  
“How did it feel to be a kept man?”  
“Acceptable; acceptable…” and he grinned again. “You might not believe this but actually, I’d rather be working.”  
“Dobey can’t wait to see you.”  
“I’ll bet…hey why don’t you call in and say my ‘plane was delayed; or that I wasn’t on the flight, or something…take me to Huggy’s and I’ll buy you a beer.”  
“No, Dobey first; beer later.”  
“Spoilsport!”  
They went out to Hutch’s car.  
“Hutch, do you have any idea why I was kidnapped?”  
“Not much; all we know is that it was supposed to be a diversion.” Hutch threw him a sidelong glance; “you didn’t exactly have a hard time, did you?”  
Starsky grinned. Hutch wasn’t going to leave it that. “Starsky; you were having a nice time and they were sending us photos that looked like someone had beaten the shit out of you. The least you can do is not grin about it!”  
“Are you jealous? So that’s what the photos were for…she is really expert with make-up; isn’t she. Look Hutch, I’m sorry that they did that; but it isn’t my fault. When they took me I thought that it was for real. They weren’t too gentle taking me to the car.”

Dobey and Tanner were waiting for them. Hutch sat down and Starsky served himself at the water cooler before perching on the edge of Hutch’s chair. Dobey gestured towards the other chair in front of his desk; Starsky raised an eyebrow and sat down.  
“It’s good to have you back safe and sound, Starsky.”  
“Thanks Cap’n.”  
Tanner coughed. Starsky looked at him with interest. “Tanner; I’m from the FBI.”  
“Pleased to meet you.” Starsky answered with heavy sarcasm. Hutch stepped in before Starsky got himself into trouble. “Starsk; Tanner has been working closely with us – in fact his people are dealing with Cameron right now.”  
“They are? Hope they don’t get in Vince Kelly’s way. The last I heard; he was going to deal with Cameron.”  
Tanner looked carefully at Starsky; “could you explain? Start from the beginning perhaps?”  
Starsky started at the beginning. “I was throwing up when they came; do you really want the details, Tanner?”  
Dobey gave him a sour look.  
Starsky told them everything he could. He hesitated before mentioning his relationship with Geena; but Hutch had seen the movie after all; and he knew that sooner or later a judge and jury might see it too. “I still don’t really understand any of this, Captain; but that’s what happened.” He looked at Hutch; “I’m kind of tired….” Dobey nodded and they left the room.  
“Pass by my place so I can change; then I’ll buy you that beer, OK.”

They left Hutch’s car outside Starsky’s place and were on their way to The Pits when the radio announcement came in.  
“All units. All units, in the vicinity of Airport Boulevard and…. Reports of shooting.”  
Starsky was already checking his mirrors before swinging the car in a one hundred eighty degree turn. “We’re nowhere near the airport….” Hutch started  
“Zebra three; patch through to Captain Dobey.” Dobey’s voice came through the speaker.  
“I want you two over there. The reports are of submachine gun fire. It sounds like someone is settling scores.”  
“We are already on the way, Captain.” Starsky and Hutch exchanged looks; they didn’t need to say what was on their minds. “‘Settling scores’ meant that the Tallman inheritance was being decided.”

They heard the gunfire as they came around a corner about a block away from the intersection that Mildred had called. The area had already been closed off by the patrol units. Starsky pulled over and they checked their guns. Starsky had a full clip and all the chambers of Hutch’s Magnum were full. Hutch made sure that he had enough ammunition in his pockets; Starsky leaned over and took two extra clips from the glove-box. They got out of the car carefully; Hutch ran across the road to the cover of a mailbox. Starsky darted to the back of the car and opened the trunk; he took out the two back-up rifles and a box of ammo. He ran over to join Hutch crouched behind the mailbox and handed him one of the rifles. They both slipped their handguns back into place under their jackets and scuttled to the cover of a dumpster that was half-filled with the debris of a building site. Hutch scanned the rooftops; Starsky concentrated on alleys and darkened doorways. They waited.

Another round of gunfire broke the silence. A figure ran across the street; a rapid volley of bullets stopped him mid-way. Hutch tugged Starsky’s sleeve. “O’Malley got away with a shipment of Uzis.” “Why do I wish I was still in Vegas?”  
“What do you want to do?” Starsky reappraised the street. “You make for that store over there; the one with the metal shutter. Go on; I’ll cover you.” He put down the rifle and drew his pistol. As Hutch ran low, the rifle slung across his back, Starsky positioned himself at the corner of the dumpster allowing him a clear view of the rooftop where the last gunfire had come from, without being too exposed himself. He squeezed the trigger and fired off the full clip. He pulled back to reload just as the gunman on the roof got his range; the hail of bullets against the dumpster was deafening. He peered around the corner and saw Hutch wave from his new position.  
Hutch fired a round from the rifle in the air to draw attention. He pulled back and waited for the reply. It didn’t come from the roof this time. Someone was positioned in a doorway almost exactly opposite him…Starsky wouldn’t stand a chance if he tried to run for it – he would be caught in crossfire. Hutch pulled back into the doorway. Seeing Hutch draw back; Starsky slid back behind the dumpster. He swore; without radios they couldn’t communicate. He watched as Hutch tried the metal shutter that protected the storefront from break-ins. Hutch tested the shutter; it wasn’t locked. He pushed it up enough to be able to slip under it; he heaved a sigh of relief; the store had an open front, without the shutter it was wide open. He slipped into the cover of darkness and allowed his eyes to accommodate to the gloom.  
There was a door in back and he ran over to it; it led to a stairway; he went up and carefully opened the door to the roof. He closed it again softly and leaned against the wall while he gathered his thoughts. There were three men on the roof and they had enough artillery to put half the police in the city out of action.

Starsky was still behind the dumpster. He decided to draw a little fire to get an idea of what he was dealing with.  _Just like the jungle…._  He fired three shots and pulled back again. This time the reply came from the roof of the block where Hutch had gone into the store. He took a deep breath and scuttled over to the cover of the building line. He ran to the store front and slipped under the shutter. As he stepped into the building he heard a trigger click into position. He slipped his pistol into a two-handed grip and steadied himself into a wide-legged stance; knees bent, his weight more on his left leg making it easier for him to lunge forward quickly if necessary. He could see a silhouette over at the back of the store; the guy had a gun aimed straight at him. He blinked…the silhouette looked familiar. “Hutch?” he called in a half-whisper.  
Hutch lowered his gun and came over to join Starsky. “I went up to the roof but….”  
“I saw two of them….”  
“Three; there are three of them up there Starsk. What do we do now?”  
Starsky sat on the floor and leaned against the wall; Hutch joined him.   
“I guess the best thing to do is to get out of here.” Starsky stood up and pulled Hutch to his feet. “Come on.”  
As soon as they emerged from under the shutter the gunfire started again. Hutch started to run back to the dumpster and Starsky saw him fall.  _Fuck!_  
Firing his gun in the air, Starsky ran to Hutch’s side. There was blood on his sleeve.  
“You OK?”  
Hutch turned to him and smiled. “Fine; it’s only a graze…look.” He pointed to something on the ground next to him and Starsky picked up the bloody bullet and grinned. “Lucky break; Blondie!” They ran to the cover of the dumpster.

“I guess we just have to sit here until the cavalry comes over the horizon.” Starsky muttered under his breath. Hutch sighed and checked under his sleeve and grimaced.  
“Does it hurt?” “I’m OK.” “Liar!” Starsky lifted the sleeve gently and saw that the wound was deeper than ‘just a graze’. It was deep enough to have done serious damage. Hutch was pale and Starsky could see from the stain on the back of his jacket that he had lost a lot of blood. Hutch winced. Starsky ran an expert finger along the edge of the wound. “There’s a bullet in there, Hutch; I can feel it. I need to get you to a hospital.” Starsky was pulling his belt out from the loops of his jeans. He slipped it around Hutch’s arm just above the wound and pulled the end through the buckle until it was tight. He held the end of the belt out to Hutch. “Hold on to this; and pull hard.” Hutch was beginning to feel dizzy; he concentrated on pulling the belt to hold it tight.  
Starsky pushed him gently so that he was propped up against the dumpster. “Wait here.”  
Hutch focused all his effort on staying conscious and on pulling the belt to keep it tight. Starsky ran to the Torino and opened the door; as he started the engine another volley of bullets rang out. The back window of the Torino shattered and Starsky hunched himself over the wheel as he gunned the engine; he drove over to the dumpster and slid across the passenger seat and opened the door. He rolled out of the car and crawled over to Hutch. “Come on; let’s get you out of here.” He pulled Hutch over to the car. “Wait a second.” Starsky climbed in and sat with his back to his seat; he put his hands under Hutch’s shoulders and hauled him up. “Push with your feet willya? Help me a little here.” Hutch pushed and Starsky heaved him into the car. Another shot rang out and the window of the open door was shattered. Hutch managed to slide his legs into place. Starsky leaned across him and helped him to close the door; then he took his place behind the wheel and floored the gas pedal. The Torino screeched away from the dumpster. Starsky heard the shots and ducked instinctively; he swerved to avoid any other fire and flung the car around the corner. Hutch groaned as he was thrown against the dashboard. “Sorry!” Starsky made an effort to keep the car from swinging around too much.   
Hutch slumped forward and Starsky saw that the whole of his sleeve was stained with blood; he grabbed the bubble light and threw it up onto the roof then hit the siren. He took the mike out of Hutch’s hand – and had to swerve to avoid a parked car. “This is Zebra three; I’m transporting a badly injured officer to Memorial – all units in the vicinity between…” he glanced out of the window and got a make on a street sign and gave his position, “…please be ready to clear the way for me.” The radio began to bleep and crackle as the units checked in and reported their positions. Dobey’s voice cut through the cacophony. “Starsky?” “Yeah, Cap’n.” “What happened?” “Hutch got hit; we thought it was a graze but he has a bullet in his arm and he’s bleeding to death here … I gotta go Cap’n I need both hands to drive!” He let the mike fall to the floor of the car and concentrated on his grim journey. At every junction a black and white patrol car was in position and a uniformed cop was directing the traffic to make way for the Torino as it careened to the hospital. Starsky was chewing his lips with concentration.  
He glanced at Hutch who was slumped back against his seat, no longer to resist the violent movements of the car as Starsky tore around each corner. He was a deathly gray and his arm hung limp by his side.  
 _Just hang on in there. Only a couple of more blocks…nearly there now…just around this corner and then up onto…oh shit!_ There was an ambulance parked right on the entrance to the ramp and the crew was helping an elderly man down to his walker. Starsky banged on the wheel and let the siren run one more time. One of the paramedics turned and saw the Torino waiting. He ran over and looked inside. “Hey Lou; get the old guy out of the way, there’s a badly injured cop here…it’s Hutch!” Somehow Lou managed to hustle his patient out of the way as his partner jumped into the cab and drove the ambulance out of the way. Lou and his partner ran to help Starsky get Hutch out of the car. “Go and park Starsky…meet us in the emergency room.” Starsky nodded and slipped the Torino over to a parking bay that read ‘reserved for official use only’; he left the Mars light flashing on the roof to show that the Torino was as official as any other car that might get parked here. He ran back to the Emergency entrance and held up his badge as he chased after the gurney that Lou had loaded Hutch onto.   
The doors of the emergency treatment room started to slide closed in his face; he shoved a shoulder into the gap and forced his entrance.  
“You can’t stay here…”  
“He’s my partner. He stays when I need him; and I stay when he needs me! “The nurse who had spoken to him looked at the doctor for guidance. “You can stay Starsky; stay by his head and try to keep out of the way….and if you must faint – try not to fall on the patient.” Starsky gave him a hard look. He put his hand under Hutch’s cheek; Hutch was struggling to keep his eyes open; Starsky stared deep into his eyes just before the eyelids closed and did not re-open. Starsky whispered “don’t quit yet.”

The bullet was lodged just above Hutch’s elbow; but that was not the problem. The doctor had found the real mess. “The bullet sectioned the axillary artery.” Starsky looked at him; “What’s that?” “It’s the major artery in the arm. It’s a good thing you got him here, another few minutes and he would have bled to death. I want a couple of pints of blood set up straight away; get his file and check his blood group.” He looked more closely at the damage. “No nerve damage; the muscle isn’t torn. He won’t need surgery; I can repair this here.” A nurse prepared Hutch’s arm and the doctor started to stitch the artery. When he had finished he stitched the wound on Hutch’s arm. In the meantime a sachet of blood had been set up on the IV stand and red life-saving fluid was running back into Hutch’s body. Starsky felt tears of relief well up in his eyes, he wiped his nose and sniffed and turned away.  
“We’ll need to keep him in for twenty four hours of observation.” The doctor patted Starsky on the shoulder; “you can stay with him.” Starsky nodded and sat down beside Hutch who was still unconscious in the gurney. Minutes later an orderly came to wheel Hutch to his room. Starsky followed and as they went to the elevator Dobey arrived.  
“How is he?”  
“He’ll be OK. He lost a lot of blood but they’re putting it back right now. They want to keep him in for twenty four hours observation.” Starsky managed a quiet laugh, “I guess it’s his turn to be under close watch, somehow I don’t think he’s up to enjoying himself with his nurse though.” Dobey smiled.  _Sometimes that boy has gallows humor!_

  
They left Hutch sleeping and went back down to the Torino. Dobey noted the still-flashing light and smiled. “I guess that was a good idea; who would think that thing is an official car!” Starsky laughed as he opened the door. Dobey was about to take the passenger seat when he saw the blood all over it. He took out his handkerchief and wiped the seat as best he could; nonetheless Edith Dobey would have a nasty few seconds when she saw her husband come through the door that evening – his sleeve had bloodstains on it.

Starsky drove in silence. Dobey knew better than to try to start a conversation; there would be time enough when they got to the office and tried to piece together what had happened.

  
Tanner was already in Dobey’s office when the two cops arrived. “I have good news. O’Malley is dead; and Malone is singing his heart out right now.”  
It turned out that the shooting match that had nearly cost Hutch his life was a last minute attempt by O’Malley to double cross everyone. Having taken Frankie’s arms haul he had then tried to lure Malone into a trap; but Malone had been tipped off by Vince Kelly not to trust O’Malley and so he was ready with his own men – all of whom had been heavily armed after Malone had pulled off a similar deal with Garcia a week earlier – which was why Garcia had not been able to deliver to Edna and Frankie Tallman.  
Starsky held up his hand. “Wait a second. Are you telling us that Garcia was supplying both sides with weapons?”  
“Yes; and this is the best bit – he didn’t realize that he was supplying two different sides; he thought that he was selling to Mrs. Tallman – and he didn’t know that there were two of them until Edna got tough with him about not being at the drop that Hutch was staking out.”  
Starsky ran this through his mind and smiled at the thought of anyone dealing with both Edna and Trixie Tallman and not knowing it.   
It was Dobey’s turn. “I still don’t see why Starsky here had to be shipped out to Vegas.”  
Tanner looked at Starsky. “O’Malley wanted the two of them out of the way. He thought that if Starsky disappeared, Hutch would spend all his time trying to find him and not interfere with his own take-over bid for the Tallman Empire. Unfortunately for him Trixie and Geena are very old friends and Geena couldn’t help bragging about her latest conquest. When Trixie heard who Geena was …well, when she heard about Starsky she contacted Edna and the two of them finally saw eye to eye for once.”  
Starsky went cross-eyed; “I can’t keep up with this. Now you’re saying that Trixie and Edna Tallman are working together.”  
“For the moment; the one thing neither of them wants is for an outsider to take control of the Tallman operations. From what I hear they are negotiating to join up with the Kellys. Now that could make things interesting if Geena ever decides to switch her operations to this city – couldn’t it Starsky.”  
Starsky looked at him steadily. “It was fun while it lasted…but I’m a cop first and an ex-lover second. Anyway, I don’t think she’d come here; her share of the Strip is far too important.”

*********************************************************

Starsky opened his mailbox and removed six days’ worth of letters and junk fliers. He let himself into his apartment thinking how nice it was to be home again; it seemed like he had been away a month, and yet it was only six days since he’d spent the day in contemplation. One thing was for sure; he’d made one firm decision. He made tea and sat on the sofa sorting through his mail. One big manila envelope caught his eye. He opened it and pulled out two photographs. The first was of him oiling Geena’s back; he turned it over and read “Wish you were still here. G.” The second was of him heaving an injured Hutch into the car. He turned it over and read: “I guess you are where you should be.” He sipped his tea and smiled. Yeah. I’m where I should be.

He went over to the kitchen counter and hopped up to sit on it while he used the ‘phone.  
“Captain Dougherty please….Gerry; hi it’s Dave Starsky. I’ve made my decision…. “

  
********************************************

They let Hutch out of the hospital after forty-eight hours, not twenty four. He was still weak and Starsky decided to stay over at his place that night. He tucked Hutch up in bed and started to make his own nest on the sofa. It was a warm evening and he went out onto the patio that Hutch loved to call his winter garden. Starsky dropped the blanket and pillow on the floor and went back to take the big cushions off the sofa. He lay on his back and stared at the sky through the glass roof; the stars were twinkling…he slept deeper than he had for a long time. He decided that Hutch need never know about the choice he had faced.  _Couldn’t do this in New York in September; now could I. I guess I’ve become a Californian!_

 


End file.
